


Of Demons and Angels

by NarryMusings



Series: Of Demons and Angels [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Angels, Angst, Angst and Fluff, Demons, Drama, M/M, Minor character death - demons, Narry - Freeform, Shadowhunters - Freeform, Violence, narry storan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 14:06:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2431568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarryMusings/pseuds/NarryMusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is one of the greatest Shadowhunters of his time. And Niall is a just a boy whose life gets turned upside down by demons and angels. This is not only a story of Niall’s search for the truth about who – or what – he is; it’s also one of loyalty and love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Demons and Angels

**Author's Note:**

> HIII.
> 
> So, I'm pretty sure this is longest most complex Narry story I've ever written.
> 
> This story basically happened because I liked the idea of the various demon/angel fics going around and I was IN LOVE with The Mortal Instruments/The Infernal Devices series so I thought, "Why not put put Narry and TMI/TID together?!" So did, sort of.  
> Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination that decided this was a good idea. All other ideas/terms/characters belong to Cassandra Clare and/or One Direction. This is just FANfiction. So please, nobody sue me? 
> 
> Tumblr: narrymusings

There are two ways a Shadowhunter can sense the presence of a demon. First is by smell, which is the most common sense, because they smell like death and garbage. An untrained Shadowhunter might throw up at the smell the first couple times, but over time and with practice, one becomes used to the stench – and instead of making one's stomach twist and turn in disgust, it makes one's blood rush with adrenaline. Second is by energy, because demons have this evil kind of demonic energy about them that literally tickles the hair at the back of a Shadowhunter's neck.

Mundanes – or mortals, as they’re commonly known in the mortal world’s fairytales – get these senses too, they just don't know it. Where Shadowhunters know exactly what it means – and can sometimes tell exactly how far away the demon is, mundanes just smell something like garbage and might feel a shiver run up their spine. And even if they knew what it meant, they wouldn't be able to see a demon – or a Shadowhunter, unless the hunter has made themselves visible beyond the veil.

The veil is one of the strongest forms of protection the Shadowhunter world has ever seen; it protects their world from mundanes who have a history of misunderstanding the Shadowhunter values and allows Shadowhunters to continue to serve and protect the mortal world from the evils that try to destroy it. The veil is also the strongest magic – fueled by Angelic energy, the same kind of energy that flows through a Shadowhunter's veins – the Shadowhunter world has ever known. 

Harry Styles is one of the greatest, most talented Shadowhunters of his time. He's a natural, born and bred to fight evil – and of course it helps that he comes from a long line of Shadowhunters who are said to be some of the best. Ever. He's a quick learner and has never needed much practice, which doesn't always sit well with some of his friends, despite the fact that he actually really likes practice. He likes staying fit – although the height and lankiness of his body makes him look clumsy and unstable – and honing his skills and feeling good. 

He's especially good at hunting and fighting demons. 

And this is why he smells – and feels – the demon before he sees it. He turns his head towards the doorway of the pub, watches as a tall, incredibly fit looking lad with dark, quiffed hair and a smug, yet charming, smirk on his pretty face walks through it. He's wearing a black leather jacket over a black shirt with black skinny jeans and boots. Harry rolls his eyes.

That's the thing about demons; they like to play dress up. They enjoy using demonic energy and "magic" to make themselves look like mundanes as it's easier to fool and, ultimately, destroy them if they look like one of them. Mundanes are easily fooled, distracted by looks and charms and human skin, whereas Shadowhunters are not. They can't be. 

Harry too, is dressed like a mundane, clad in his favourite pair of black skinny jeans, a white t-shirt and a black and white plaid, flannel shirt. The only articles of clothing he's wearing from his actual fighting gear are his black combat boots. 

The demon slides up next to him at the bar and sits on the stool. He drums his hands on the bar-top to get the bartender's attention, flashing her a charming smile to bare his white teeth. 

Harry turns back to his beer and takes a long, calculated gulp. Which, coincidentally, seems to get the demon's attention which only makes the adrenaline in Harry's veins flow faster. 

"Drowning your sorrows?" the demon says in a deep, raspy voice. 

Harry lowers the glass and turns to face it, plastering a sad smile to his lips. "Something like that."

The demon nods, accepting its own beer with a slight nod at the bartender. "Yeah, I hear ya."

"Marcel," Harry says, offering the demon his hand. Demons can sense the Angelic energy in Shadowhunters by touch far better than by sense alone – that is unless the Shadowhunter performs a glamour rune to make the energy feel null and void. Runes are, essentially, large black marks made and seared into skin by a Shadowhunter's serif blade. Each rune – and there are hundreds – have different shapes and purposes and Harry has been searing this particular glamour rune to his skin for years as a precaution. Needless to say, he isn't at all worried about the demon feeling his energy.

The demon grins and takes Harry's hand to shake it firmly. "Nick. Nice to meet you."

"You, as well," Harry replies, taking another sip from his beer. 

He makes small talk with the demon, nursing only his one beer so as to not fall drunk while he's supposed to be out on a hunt, and when he catches the demon's human brown eyes gliding up and down his body an even better idea than the one he'd previously had of killing the demon comes to mind. And so he drags his stool closer to the demon and he flirts, years of practice – and of actual, genuine flirting – making him sound genuine to even his own ears.

And then, just like in real life, it doesn't take long to convince Nick to go to the loo with him.  
They're kissing harshly and aggressively as the bathroom door swings open and they stumble unceremoniously inside. Harry allows the demon to push him against the wall and grind it's crotch against Harry's leg, allows its hands to roam up Harry's shirt and over each defined ab. He allows the demon to take the reins, to push him towards the counter and kiss him deeply, because he likes to let demons think they have the control before he turns things around and pulls the proverbial rug out from underneath. Demons relish in being able to fool mundanes and Harry relishes in turning the tables. 

He pretends to reach blindly for the counter behind him as the demon pushes him forcefully against it, but then slips his fingers into his back pocket. Seconds later he's got the demon pressed up against the middle wall of two stalls, wielding his serif blade to its throat. The demon's human eyes widen in shock and then recognition before changing from brown to bright red with an evil sort of glint in them. 

"Shadowhunter," the demon drawls.

"Surprised?"

"A little. You must be really good at that glamour rune of yours."

"I am," Harry smirks.

"Your name's not Marcel, then, is it?" the demon says, more than asks, to which Harry nods.  
"Well then I seem to be at a disadvantage because you clearly know my real name. So what's yours?"

"Harry."

"Ah, Harry Styles!"

"So you've heard of me."

"There isn't a demon in Hell that doesn't at least know the name Styles, luv. And I have yet to meet a demon who doesn't know who you are."

Harry smirks again. 

"You're smart, cunning, elusive. Incredibly talented, incredibly ruthless in combat, and a little bit reckless. Don't care much for authority, but you tend to respect the authority you do have. You like to manipulate all things around you – including people – and you use them to your advantage, in all areas. And you like to play games."

"Do you talk about me often?" Harry asks, cocking his head to the side.

"You know, I'd reckon you could be a demon. We have a lot of the same traits-"

Harry cuts the demon off by pulling it away from the wall by the collar and then slams it back harshly, pressing the blade harder against the flesh of its neck. "I am nothing like you."

"Aren't you, though?"

"You and your lot of destructive demon scum get off on trying to destroy the mundane world – you hurt and kill innocent people," Harry growls, his face close to the demon's human face. "I just do whatever I have to do to rid both worlds and dimensions of your presence."

"Oh, is that all?"

As if on cue, just as Harry's about pull back his serif blade and thrust it into the demon's chest, the bathroom door swings open which catches them both off guard. 

A boy with dyed-blond tips and brown roots, bright blue eyes and pale skin walks into the room and freezes when he sees the sight before him. His brow furrows and then all of a sudden he's coming towards them. "Hey, what the hell, mate!" he shouts in a distinctly Irish accent, moving to grab Harry's arm.

All at once Harry moves out of the way of the mundane boy before he gets too close, the demon drops to the ground at his feet, cowering and shivering in practiced fear and the mundane boy looks incredulously between the two of them. 

"Get out," Harry snaps at the boy, pushing him back towards the door. 

"No, are you crazy? What the hell is wrong with you?" the boy asks, his gaze narrowed accusingly. He works his way around Harry towards the demon.

Harry reaches out for him, to stop him before he falls victim to another one of the demon's game, but the boy shrugs him off. Stupid mundane. "Don't go near it-"

But it's too late; the boy kneels down beside the demon, whose eyes are brown again and looks like nothing more than a scared, helpless human. "Are you okay?"

Harry's grip tightens around the hilt of his serif blade. If the stupid mundane boy won't move out of the way, then he's just going to have to make him-

And he's about to – to grab the boy by the collar of his own leather jacket – when the demon moves about in one fluid motion and is all of a sudden standing up with the mundane in front of him. He's holding the boy, who now has an ugly look of fear on his otherwise pretty face, like a hostage. The hand around his throat is now dark blue with long and sharp black fingernails digging into the boys neck hard enough to create indents without breaking the skin. 

Harry falls into fight mode, spreading his feet and bending his knees as he turns his body slightly sideways. "Let him go, he's done nothing wrong," Harry growls.

"Aw, where's the fun in that? Besides, you said yourself that demons get off on killing innocent people," the demon says, smirking smugly. "I came in here to get off in more ways than one with you, so if I can't have that-"

"Exactly – with me, this about me not about him," Harry stresses. He can't let the demon harm the mundane – he can't. "This is between you and I. Let him go."

The demon smirks – and then winces, letting out an inhumane growl as the mundane elbows it hard in the stomach. Its grip loosens around the boy's neck and Harry uses it to his advantage, lurching forward to grab the boy by the arm and throw him behind himself. He launches himself at the demon at the exact moment the demon launches itself at Harry and they collide with a thud in the air before tumbling into a heap on the ground. 

He forgets about the mundane's presence as the demon and himself roll around on the floor punching and kicking one another, fingers grasping at clothing and hair. He needs to get the upper hand, needs to swing himself over so he's on top – so he can thrust the serif blade into its chest, nice and tight. But the demon is strong.

He finally climbs to his feet, grabbing the collar of the demon's leather jacket to haul him up as well. There's more pushing and shoving and grunting. Harry falls back into a stall door and he grabs the top of it to steady himself, ripping it right off the hinges. He kicks his right foot out at the demon, which sends it stumbling backward towards the counter before throwing himself forward, blade raised. The demon, however, raises his hands and uses the one kind of energy that gives him an unfair advantage to send Harry flying back into the stall.

His back hits the wall – and then the back of his head cracks against it – before he falls down onto the top of the toilet and then tumbles onto the floor. He groans and rubs his hand at the back of his head, pulling his fingers away to find them red with his own blood. 

"No, please, no!" the mundane boy shrieks. 

Harry pushes himself to his feet and when he emerges from the stall he comes face to face with the demon – in demon form now, all dark blue, scaly skin and red eyes and black teeth – holding the mundane hostage yet again. Its hand is wrapped once more around the mundane's throat as the boy tries desperately to loosen the hold with his own slim fingers. Harry rolls his eyes, fists clenched at his sides with the hilt of his serif blade still held firmly in his right hand. "Is that all you got – taking mundanes hostage in the middle of a fight? It's a bit old already, mate."

"I wouldn't be too quick to judge, there, Shadowhunter. There's always more than meets the eye, even with your precious, innocent mundanes."

"How 'bout we settle this the old fashioned way, huh? Shadowhunter to demon?"

The demon smirks. "I'd love to stick around and have it out with you once and for all, mate, but unfortunately I must be going."

And then, in one fluid motion, the demon opens a swirling black portal, throws the mundane towards Harry, who catches the terrified, stumbling boy in his left arm and whips his serif blade through the air towards the demon. Harry watches, with baited breath, as the blade flips end over end as it soars and then buries itself in the middle of the demon's shoulders just before it could crawl into the portal. The demon lets out an ear-piercing, high-pitched, inhumane sound as it drops to its knees and combusts into dust and ashes, whilst the portal disappears. 

Harry lets all the air out of his lungs in one fell-swoop and then turns to look at the boy on his left. The adrenaline rushing through his veins surges him forward and he grabs the boy by the face, smacking their lips together. He pulls back, laughing victoriously only to see the boy looking back at him with wide eyes. The boy looks scared and confused – and that's when Harry realizes just how badly he's fucked up.

"Fuck," he mutters, dropping his hands from the boy's face. "Fuck, okay, listen to me-"

"Don't touch me!" the boy shouts, taking several steps back until his back hits the far wall.

"Just – listen, we need to get out of here," Harry says hurriedly, walking forward to grab his serif blade. He forces the blade back into the hilt and the shoves it in his pockets before turning on one of the three taps at the sinks and thrusting his hands under the warm water to wash away the blood from his hand. 

"You need to tell me what the fuck just happened," the boy tells him harshly.

Harry dries his hand on a square sheet of paper towel. "We need to get out of here first – unless you'd rather still be here when someone comes to investigate."

The boy blinks, looking around at the wreckage. "Right, yeah."

"What's your name?"

"Um, Niall."

"'m Harry. Now let's get out of here, yeah?" He grabs Niall by the sleeve of his leather jacket and leads him towards the door. As if on cue, a man who Harry recognizes as the owner of the pub opens the door, looking past both boys at the wreckage behind them. He pushes Niall ahead of him, slightly past the burly owner. "Run left towards the back door," he whispers in the blond's ear. And then he pushes Niall forwards, while simultaneously bringing his elbow into the burly man's face before following Niall down the hall and out the front door. 

Niall stops once he's out the door, in the middle of a dark, grungy alleyway but Harry grabs his arm as he runs past him with a "don't stop running until I do", dragging him along and forcing him to keep up. They turn right down the street and then left down another and then all of a sudden Harry's dragging him into another alleyway – and only then do they stop running. Niall huffs and puffs, bending at the waist to rest his hands on his knees as he struggles to catch his breath.

Harry leans back against one brick wall, wincing as he rests the back of his head against it. He's breathing heavily, his right hand folded over on his chest. 

"What the fuck happened back there?"

The brown-haired boy closes his eyes, bringing his hand up to punch the bridge of his nose. He's really fucked up. Like, royally fucked up. He sighs. "I can't tell you."

"You can't – are you fucking joking?" Niall snaps, glaring at him. "You just killed that – that-"

"Thing," Harry offers.

"You killed him-"

"It, not him," Harry says, pushing himself off the wall.

"It? What was it?"

"I can't-"

"Fuck you!" Niall yells, pushing Harry back by the chest. "I just saw you kill that thing, so the least you can do is tell me what it was!"

Harry rolls his eyes. "You wouldn't believe me even if I did-"

"Try me."

Harry sighs, running a hand through his unruly curls. "Look, I just-"

"I've seen 'em before, things like that," Niall says, leaning himself heavily against the brick wall opposite Harry.

Harry blinks, taken aback. "You – what? You've seen them?"

"Yeah-"

"How? Where?" he asks frantically, because it's impossible. Mundanes can't see demons – and if they can it's because the demon has lowered his veil. 

"I don't know – anywhere," Niall says, shrugging his shoulders as he kicks at a rock on the ground at his feet. "Sometimes I walk down the street and I see one out of the corner of my eye but when I turn around to look it's gone."

"How long have you been seeing them for?"

"My whole life, I guess."

Harry shakes his head in disbelief as he begins to pace back and forth in front of Niall. He pinches at the bridge if his nose, wracking his brain. "But you...you're a mundane – a mortal. You're a mortal. I can't feel your-" He cuts himself off, his stomach churning because that's when he feels it – a mixture of angelic and demonic energy swirling all around him. A mixture. Not only should the demonic energy have dissipated the second the demon died in the bathroom, but where is the angelic energy coming from?  
"You're a mundane, right? You're a mortal?" he asks, stopping to face the blond haired stranger in front of him.

"I - yeah, I mean, what else would I be?"

Harry groans, rubbing his hands over his face. "I need to take you to the Institute."

"The what?" Niall asks incredulously. "I'm not going anywhere else with you until you tell me what the hell I've just walked in on."

"Okay," Harry replies, standing in front of Niall, "I'm gonna explain to you as much as I can, but then you're gonna have to come with me when I tell you to, alright?"

Niall nods, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat. "Yeah."

"I'm a Shadowhunter and that thing you saw me kill was a demon. Demons are literal scum that like to crawl out of the gates of hell to wreak havoc and, ultimately, destroy the human race and myself and my fellow Shadowhunters were born to protect people like you. People like you aren't supposed know about people like me – or about demons, which is why I need to bring you to the Institute. Well, technically I would've had to bring you there anyway so Simon could've taken your memories of the fight but we have a whole other problem now that I know you've seen demons before.

"Now, we need to get to the Institute."

Niall sputters as Harry starts to walk away and he has to jog to catch up to him before walking swiftly down the streets of London beside him. "What's the Institute?"

"It's a sanctuary for Shadowhunters. Literally one of the safest places in the world."

"Where is it?"

"To mundanes it just looks like an old, abandoned Church but in reality it's just a large...institute, I guess. Like, literally. Kind of looks like a mental hospital – kind of is one too," Harry snickers. "It's up on Fleet Street-"

"Oh that place," Niall says with a time if recognition. "With the big Cathedral-"

Harry stops, grabbing Niall's sleeve once more to pull him to a stop as well. "You've seen it?"

"Yeah, I walk by there all the time on my way to work. Doesn't look like much of an abandoned church."

Harry frowns. "Of course it doesn't."

X

Sure enough, Niall doesn't need to look very hard through the veil to see the Institute – in fact he doesn't need to look through the veil at all because he just kind of sees it. Which is just as Harry had expected. 

What he's curious to see now is how the veil will react to Niall at the front door. The front door acts like a shield of sorts, meant to detect the difference between a Shadowhunter and a mundane to keep mundanes out of the Institute, whilst simultaneously keeping demons at bay as well.

He leads the blond-haired boy up the long dimly-lit driveway towards the staircase leading up to the front door. He sneaks a glance sideways and admires, briefly, the way the moon shines off Niall's pale skin and glitters in his bright, blue eyes. He'd like to think the boy looks sort of like an angel – all flawless and angelic and innocent – but he knows what angels look like and Niall definitely isn't an angel. 

The pair climb the stairs, Niall's gaze flickering all over the small front porch-like entrance as Harry reaches for the door handle. The handle recognizes him, which allows him to push it open. He motions for Niall to go through which he does – and isn't pushed back by the veil, so Harry follows him. 

Seconds after Harry closes the door behind him he hears short, fast footsteps coming down the grand staircase. A voice follows the footsteps just as Harry turns around to meet his quirky, energetic best friend Louis.

"You're home!" Louis exclaims, leaping to envelope Harry in his arms. He's smaller than Harry in almost all aspects, so he has to get right up on the tips of his toes. "How'd it go? Did you kill it? Please tell me you killed it, I'd really rather not have to deal with another revenge attack or something," the feathery-haired brunette says, putting space between the two of them. Only then does he seem to notice Niall, who's standing, rather awkwardly, a couple steps behind Harry; his gaze flickers over Harry's shoulder, creasing in confusion and curiosity. 

"I killed it, yeah," Harry confirms.

"I see you've brought a friend home."

"Yeah, I uh – I actually need to see Simon. Is he still up?"

"Of course he's still up, he never leaves the library until at least 2 o'clock in the morning," Louis replies, keeping his gaze on the blond boy behind Harry. "Who's your friend, Harry?"

Harry sighs. "Look, it's a long story, okay? 's why I need to see Simon-"

"Why do you still feel like a demon?"

"Lou, I just-"

"It's him, isn't it? He feels like a demon," Louis barks out, looking accusingly at Niall.

Harry glances back at Niall, who's hovering awkwardly in the background looking a little bit scared and incredibly confused. He looks back at Louis, catching him by the arm just before the latter is able to move around Harry to get closer to Niall. He pushes Louis back, stepping sideways so his body is somewhat shielding Niall's. "Lou-"

"What the fuck, Harry! He feels like a demon, what are you-"

"He isn't a demon," Harry tells him calmly. "He's a mundane."

"A mundane. Right, a mundane who feels like a demon."

"Feel it deeper, Lou," he mutters, although he knows that Niall can hear him. "Feel it." He watches Louis' face twist in concentration – and then recognition.

"Angel..."

"I need to find Simon."

"You can't – how can you... How can you bring him here, Harry? He's a mundane, how did you even-" Louis cuts himself as realization dawns on him, flickering in his dark blue eyes. "Fuck, Harry, how can you be so reckless?"

"It just – it just happened, okay?" Harry sighs, growing increasingly impatient. He loves Louis like a brother, but sometimes he can be incredibly overbearing. "And besides, we have far bigger problems than that so if you don't mind, we need to find Simon." He glances back at Niall, who looks at him with raised eyebrows as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and tilts his head in a silent motion for the boy to follow him. 

Louis follows both of them.

X

Simon is in the library, his nose buried in a book with one pair of reading glasses sitting on his nose and another, larger, stranger-looking pair sitting on the top of his head. He's the head of the Institute, the eldest Shadowhunter in the immediate area and the one who makes all the calls and calls all the shots. He knows everything about everything in the Shadowhunter world, having spent years reading book after book after book – and if, by chance, he doesn't know something, he at least knows exactly where to look to find out.

The library is a massive room with two floors full of bookcases and knowledge. It's unknown how many books the library actually owns, but Harry reckons there has to be at least about a million.

Simon hears them before he sees them, looking up from his book with a grin. "Hello boys. And other boy," he says, trailing off as his gaze lingers on Niall.

Louis hangs back, whilst Harry drags Niall towards Simon's desk; Niall, who's currently staring up at the skylight directly above their heads. 

"Simon, this is Niall," Harry says, gesturing towards the blond boy standing next to him.

"Hello, Niall – Simon Cowell," Simon says, holding out a steady hand.

"Niall Horan," Niall greets, shaking the other's hand. 

Harry sees a glint in Simon's eyes but doesn't mention it. "He's a, um – well he's a-"

"He's supposed to be a mundane," Louis says from behind the pair. 

"Louis, be polite," Simon chastises briefly before turning his attention back to the curly haired boy. "Right then, he's a mundane."

"Yes."

"And why have you brought him here?"

Harry swallows thickly, glancing sideways at Niall, who nods, before looking forward at his mentor. "Niall kind of stumbled in on my fight with a demon in the bathroom at a pub downtown," he admits. "He saw everything."

"So you want me to alter his memories."

"No – well, I mean, I did. That was my plan originally, but there's been some recent developments."

"Go on," Simon says, leaning back in his chair.

"He, uh-" he cuts himself off, unsure of how, exactly, he should tell Simon the news-

"I can see demons," Niall says. And there it is.

Harry holds his breath, nervous and uncertain; and uncertain as to why he's so nervous.

Simon blinks, looking thoughtful. 

And Louis surges forward, placing himself at the edge of Simon's desk between Simon and Harry and Niall. "What?! You – he – how do you even know what a demon looks like? How does he know what a demon looks like, Harry?"

Harry sighs. "That's not even the point-"

"He's a mundane who can see demons, how is that not the point?" Louis snaps before his eyes widen suddenly. "Wait, hang on. You can see demons?" he asks Niall, leaning forward to rest his hands on the top of the desk. "As in, like, you can see them?"

Niall's brow furrows in confusion. "If by that you mean can I see them on a regular basis, then yes."

"Wha-how?" Louis asks, looking incredulous.

Simon continues to sit there silently, looking thoughtful. 

Harry steps forward, then, clearing his throat. "He says he's been able to see them since he was a kid but they never stick around long enough for him to see them for more than a couple seconds."

"How is that possible? There's no way that many demons have been walking around for, what, 16 years without a glamour of some kind – that's impossible."

"Twenty-two years, actually," Niall corrects him. 

"Whatever, doesn't matter. It's still impossible," Louis snaps. "You know what that means, don't you?" He turns to face Simon, leaning down slightly so they're almost face to face. "He can see past glamours."

"He can also see past the veil," Harry interjects.

"Oh well this just gets better and better, doesn't it?" Louis mutters rhetorically.

Harry ignores him. "He can see the past the veil on the Institute."

"I see," Simon finally says.

"He also feels like a demon," Louis points out.

"And an angel," Harry adds.

"But he doesn't smell like a demon," Simon concludes. 

"He's also standing right here," Niall says cheekily, albeit a bit nervously. "If anyone's forgotten."

"Which means you, Mr. Niall Horan, are not a mundane," Simon says, pushing himself to his feet. Both Harry and Louis remain silent as the head of the Institute walks around his desk towards a bookcase to the left of them. His gaze glides over the spines of his precious books until he finds the one he wants and walks back towards his desk. 

"If – if I'm not a mundane, or whatever, then...then what am I?" Niall asks nervously.

Simon flips through several pages before setting the book down in front of the blond boy so he can read it. (Harry looks down to read it too, whilst Louis leans across the desk to do the same.) One word in particular stands out: Faerie.

Harry looks stunned, whilst Louis snorts loudly. 

Niall looks up at Simon in disbelief. "A faerie? I'm a faerie? Hate to break it to ya, mate, but I don't have any wings. Next you'll tell me that werewolves and vampires are real too."

"They are real, don't be rude," Louis snaps.

"Lou, c'mon," Harry whispers.

"I'm not a faerie," Niall denies, shaking his head. "I'm – I'm completely human, I'm not-"

"Turn the page three times," Simon tells him, which the blond boy does. 

Niall stares down at the page and another word stands out: Mundane-Faerie. His head is pounding with thoughts and confusion and there’s this heavy sort-of sick feeling in his stomach – and he isn't sure if he's going to pass out or puke. He looks up at Simon again with wide eyes, ignoring Harry's weird, worried gaze and Louis’ thoughtful glint. 

"Faeries are creatures that have half demon and half angel blood," Simon starts explaining, tugging one leg of his pant leg up to sit on the edge of his desk. "Human faeries have demon, angel and human blood in their veins. It's incredibly uncommon – in fact there's only been two known mundane-faeries to have existed in the last few centuries. Until now."

"How is that even possible?" Harry wonders. "I mean, how can there be three strands of DNA in one person?"

"That much remains a mystery and probably always will," Simon admits. "But it explains why he looks and acts like a human and feels like both a demon and an angel."

Niall feels numb all over and his knees grow weak as he leans forward to grip the edge of the desk.

"What does that say about his parents? How does that work?" Harry asks. 

"I was adopted," Niall mutters, dropping his head. 

"Which means we might never know anything about his birth parents," Simon concludes.

Niall clears his throat, feeling dizzy and sick at the same time. "Um, I need to sit down or something, I – I'm gonna-" There’s a shout of his name as his knees hit the ground before everything goes black.

X

Niall wakes up in an unfamiliar bed with white sheets, in an unfamiliar room with cream walls. He bolts upright, looking frantically around the room for any sort of familiarity. The only things in the room other than himself and the bed he's currently occupying is a dark brown wood bedside table and a matching dresser. He looks down at himself, relieved to find himself still fully clothed – and that's when the memories of the night before come rushing back.

He groans, burying his face in his hands for a moment before pushing the plain white sheet to the side and climbing out of the bed. He makes to remake the bed when, out of the corner of his eye, he notices a folded piece of parchment paper lying on the bedside table next to him. Sitting back on the bed, mostly out of instinct than anything, he grabs the paper and unfolds it in one motion. 

Neat handwriting sits scrawled above a neatly drawn-out map. Mary makes the best fry-up in London. Come join us in the dining hall, if you like. I'll draw you a map. - Harry.

As if on cue his pocket buzzes, which startles him slightly. He slips his fingers in the pocket and pulls out his phone to find a text message from his friend Sean. Aye, where'd you disappear to last night mate? He opens the message and types out a quick reply in the form of it's a long story, explain later before shoving his phone back into his pocket.

He thinks about just leaving instead joining Harry – and whoever else – for breakfast, thinks that maybe if he just goes home he can forget all about demons and Shadowhunters and mundane-faeries. Perhaps he can forget that they even exist and he can just go back to being mundane. Deep down, though, he knows it won't ever go back to normal. Not now. Not ever. 

And then his stomach growls.

X

He finds the dining hall in almost no time at all, amazed with how detailed and exact the map Harry had drawn turned out to be. He takes a deep breath as he forces himself to reach for the door handle. His hand shakes and lingers for a few seconds before he finally pushes the door open. 

The first thing Niall notices is that Simon, Harry and Louis are sitting with two other boys and a girl. The second is that all six of them are wearing almost exactly the same thing; all black shirts tucked into tight black trousers with a slim, utility-like black belt with various weapons attached and big black combat boots. They look kind of like soldiers, Niall notes in his head. Soldiers with various black, swirly ink tattooed to their skin. (And he tries not to think about how good Harry looks in all black or how his arms kind of ripple in his shirt.)

The third thing he notices is several silver platters of breakfast foods lined across the long table.

"Hey," he greets them, letting the door close behind him as he walks across the room. 

"Good morning, Niall," Simon replies, motioning for him to sit down across from Harry, who looks thoughtful and curious at the same time. "Have a seat and dig in."

"You found my map useful, then?" Harry wonders.

"I did, yeah. You sure know your way around."

Small talk ensues between the six Shadowhunters whilst Niall listens intently. He doesn't understand half of what they're saying, nor does he get any of their references, but he finds it interesting nonetheless. He also tries really hard to ignore the fact that Harry keeps staring at him.

When everyone starts to help clean up the empty plates and platters is when Simon asks Niall what his plan his. Niall answers with a simple plan to go home, shower and then go to work only to have Harry protest immediately. Simon also protests, suggesting that he stay at the Institute while he and the other Shadowhunters try to found out more information in terms of Niall being a human-faerie, but Niall insists that he just go home. 

"Look, you lot can do all the research you want, but I can't just put my life on hold," Niall says. "I have responsibilities and I have bills to pay and I have a life. If you find anything worth sharing just, I dunno, I'll give you my number and you can call me."

"But, Niall-" Harry protests once more, despite Louis' attempt at stopping him. 

"It's okay, Harry," Simon says, reaching out a hand to place it over Harry's shoulder. "Niall's right; he has a life. It's fine. If we come across anything we'll be in touch."

Niall nods, thanks Simon for letting him crash at the Institute and for feeding him a delicious breakfast and then turns to leave.

X

Niall gets home, feeling exhausted. His mind is swirling with thoughts of demons and vampires and veils and Harry and it takes him a solid two minutes to get his hands to stop shaking so he can get his key in his front door. All he wants to do is get out of his dirty clothes, take a shower and get something else to eat before he has to go work. Maybe if he's lucky he can squeeze in a power nap.

Upon entering his flat, however, he's shocked to find that everything has been turned upside down – like a tornado has ripped its way through the flat and thrown everything about. His couch is over turned, his glass coffee table smashed, with shards scattered all over the rug on the floor, his books and movies have all been thrown about the room.

He grabs a golf club out of his bag by the door and holds it over his shoulder as he inspects the rest of his flat for some kind of intruder. Everything in his medicine cabinet in the bathroom is all over the floor, every cupboard in the kitchen is open – one door is even hanging from its hinges – and the clothes from his closet in his bedroom are scattered all over his bed and the floor. Even his guitar is smashed in the corner of the room. He doesn't find anyone – until he does. 

Standing in his doorway is a demon with scaly, puk-ish green skin, red eyes and a crooked, black smile. He looks at the demon and the demon looks back before lunging forward. Niall swings the club and misses. He stumbles back and swings again as the demon continues to advance. He turns and runs into the kitchen to put more space between them but then the wall that separates the kitchen from the living room explodes, destroying the cupboards and sending various food items flying about. Niall ducks with a yell as the demon comes through the wall. He shuffles himself backwards and then pulls himself to his feet – his feet slipping on the Honey Nut Cheerios that’s scattered on the floor before he catches himself and takes off running back into the living room. 

He fights the demon off the best he can with his golf club, swinging it in self-defense more than anything before he can come up with a better plan. The golf club connects four times with the demon's jaw but it hardly reacts except for ripping the club out of Niall’s hands. 

In the end he finds himself cornered in his bedroom without a weapon. He's sure this is the end, positive he's going to die here – and then all of a sudden the demon shrieks that same inhumane sound he heard yesterday before combusting into nothing but dust and ashes. He flinches and closes his eyes for a moment before he opens them and finds himself staring up at Harry.

Niall blinks, taken aback. "What are you – how did you-"

"Get up, we have to go," Harry says, ignoring him as he makes a beeline for Niall's window and looks out into the street below. 

"Did you follow me here?"

"Yeah. Good thing, huh?"

"What-"

Harry grabs the arm of his leather jacket for what feels like the millionth time in less than 24 hours before dragging him to his feet. "Get a bag and pack some clothes and whatever other possessions you want to keep. We have to go," he says firmly.

Niall does as he's told, finding his bright green nap sack in the back of his closet. He starts throwing clothes into it, which is really quite easily because they're already lying on his bed. He also grabs a picture of his adoptive parents from his dresser. "I can't believe you followed me," he mutters.

"Yeah, well, you're welcome," Harry snaps. "And hurry up."

"Where are we even going?"

"The Institute; where else?"

"Right, the safest place in the world," Niall mutters

"It is."

Niall zips up his nap sack and then pauses to face Harry. And, yeah, he looks really good in that tight black shirt. "Do you have any kind of explanation as to why a demon just tore apart my flat and tried to kill me?"

Harry's still standing by the window when he answers, "Demons don't exactly, you know, die. I mean, they die in this world, but in reality they just get forced back into their dimension in the depths of hell, unable to ever return. So it's possible that the demon I killed yesterday had some kind of sense of...what you are and – they like to talk, demons."

"So you think yesterday's demon told another demon about me and – and, what, this demon wanted some kind of revenge? Why me? I'm not the one who killed it."

Harry shrugs. "Demons don't do things the way we do things – they don't even do things the way they do things. They're unpredictable and reckless and twisted individuals. And now that they know where you live, you're no longer safe here. The only place you are safe is at the Institute because they can’t cross the threshold."

"That, and, there's about a dozen Shadowhunters living there."

Harry chuckles. "And then there's that." He wordlessly starts to walk back through the flat, stepping over the debris like it's nothing – and Niall wordlessly follows.

"Shit. I have to – I have work tonight. I-"

"Quit."

"I can't just quit, Harry," Niall snaps. "The mundane world doesn't work like that-"

"I am aware of how the mundane world works, you know," Harry points out, rolling his eyes. "We aren't complete outsiders. And yes, it can work like that – and it has to. Chances are if the demons know where you live then they probably have figured out where you work. So you have to quit. We'll figure everything else out when we get back to the Institute."

Niall nods, staring down at the ground as he follows Harry down his familiar street. He doesn't even have time to feel a sense of nostalgia as he walks away from everything he knows. The only sense of comfort he feels, at all, is Harry because although he doesn't know very much – at all – about the beautiful mysterious Shadowhunter boy, Harry has saved Niall's life twice in as many days. "Hey, Harry?" he finds himself calling out, his voice shaking slightly.

"Yeah?"

Niall wraps his fingers around Harry's own leather jacket and pulls him to a stop. Harry looks at him, confused – and then Niall throws his arms around the brunette's neck and hugs him tight, whispering a soft, shaky "thank you" in Harry's neck.

Harry, meanwhile, stumbles back at the force of Niall's body colliding with his. He freezes in shock for a minute, too taken aback to react to Niall's body being so close – and so warm against his own. But then Niall whispers "thank you" and he sounds so small and so scared and Harry finds himself bringing his arms around the gorgeous blond boy whose world has been turned upside down. 

And that's when he decides that things have already gone too far for him. 

X

The first thing Niall does when they get to the Institute is shower in the adjoining bathroom to the bedroom he slept in the night before. The water is warm and comforting where everything else he’s feeling right now – confusion, fear, dread – is so, well, not. He hums, letting the water cascade over his head and down his back, lets it beat against his face and shoulders.

Harry, meanwhile, finds Simon to tell him his version of events at Niall's flat and then Simon calls a Shadowhunters' meeting.

The 14 Shadowhunters living and staying in the London Institute collect in the dining hall to discuss what happened at Niall's flat and it's decided, amongst everyone including Louis, that Niall will stay at the Institute. Which they tell him shortly after he joins them, dressed in a fresh pair of grey trackies and a long-sleeved t-shirt. Simon believes it's the best way to keep him safe, not only from demons but also, quite possibly, from himself. Niall doesn't even want to know what that means and Simon doesn't offer to tell him. 

"For how long?" Niall asks Simon, because he's the head of the Institute after all.

"Indefinitely."

"In-no – no, I can't do that," Niall says, shaking his head as panic starts to set in. "I can't do this – I have, I have a flat and a rent to pay and I've already been made to quit my job. I can't just-"

"Everything will be taken care of," Simon promises. "Your lease on your flat will be dealt with - everything will be dealt with until further notice."

Niall's brow furrows as looks at Harry, who's standing next to Simon. Harry nods as though telling him it's okay, to trust Simon. "What does that even mean?"

"It means exactly that. We have ways of taking care of things in the mundane world."

"That's comforting," the blond mutters sarcastically.

"You'll be protected here, Niall. It's for the best – at least for now."

"What do I tell my family? My friends? I can't just disappear and not tell them why."

Simon nods, like he'd been expecting that question. "Shadowhunters have already been sent to Ireland to keep your parents under surveillance; no harm will come to them. As for what to tell your friends – tell them you've gone on holiday. Indefinitely."

Niall nods, glancing around at the other 13 Shadowhunters in the room who all have the same, neutral look on their faces. Some faces he recognizes from breakfast earlier that morning, others he's never seen before. His gaze zones in on Harry, who nods reassuringly at him and then looks away, so Niall looks back at Simon. "Okay."

X

Niall spends his first three days at the Institute familiarizing himself with the building and his surroundings. The only rooms he had actually seen before were the room across the hall from Harry, the front foyer, the library and the dining hall. So he decides to roam the Institute on his first day, because why not? He likes to explore.

He talks to a Shadowhunter named Liam Payne over breakfast one day. He'd seen Liam at breakfast his first morning here, but he'd been too distracted by nervousness and Harry to really notice him. Niall decides he likes Liam; Liam's cool and really, very nice and soft spoken. He kind of reminds Niall of a puppy: all happy and loyal and eager.

On the second day he hangs out in the art room with another Shadowhunter named Zayn. Zayn is really shy and quiet, doesn't say or do much, though Liam says he has his loud, uncontrollable moments. He's really very Zen. But when he's in the art room he comes alive and it's all colour and cartoon and abstract. Niall's never understood the point of abstract art, but there's something about the way Zayn does it that just seems to make sense. 

He befriends another Shadowhunter named Perrie. She's tall and gorgeous – and he remembers seeing her at breakfast the other day when she'd had purple hair. Her hair is pink now. He learns very quickly that she's kind of loud and eccentric and weird, but in a refreshing sort of way.

He doesn't see Harry at all over the first few days and Louis does his best to avoid him without being outright rude.

He also spends a lot of time in the library in the evenings, reading up on Shadowhunter history because he's curious and he just wants to know what kind of world he's stumbled into. What kind of world he reckons he's always been a part of, in a way. But he doesn't tell anybody that.

X

Niall walks out of his room, gaze trained on the floor as he closes the door behind him. He hears a click of a door that doesn't belong to him and looks up to see Harry standing in front of his own room a few feet away from him. Harry stares at him for a moment as Niall stands frozen with his hand on the doorknob before Harry turns to walk away.

On a whim, Niall jogs after him to catch up. "Harry, hey!"

"Hey," Harry replies, sounding bored and withdrawn. 

"Haven't seen you the last few days, you alright?"

"Been busy."

Niall frowns. "Oh. Hunting?"

"Yeah."

"How'd it go?"

"Fine."

They get to the stairs and Niall has to practically run down them in order to keep up with Harry's quick feet. "A-are you okay?"

"Fine."

Niall reaches for Harry's arm when they get to the bottom and a shiver runs up and down his spine at the contact of their skin. Harry quickly pulls his arm back and takes a step away from Niall. The blond blinks, taken aback and, admittedly, a little hurt. "Is everything okay with you? Are you – is something wrong?"

"I'm fine, Niall. Just drop it."

Niall blinks, staring at Harry as he tries not to look as hurt as he feels. "Okay, fine. I won't bother you." He walks away, then, before Harry can walk away first – and because he doesn't turn around he doesn't see Harry staring after him. 

X

Niall takes a short walk around the Institute after breakfast to clear his head before finding himself in the garden. He likes the garden. It's just a massive maze of a thing with a windy, cobble stone paths, lots of bright green foliage, bushes and trees and every kind of flower you can even imagine. It's beautiful and kind of majestic.

From the garden, where he sits on one of the many stone benches along the path, he can see Harry and Louis training in a large field. He finds himself watching Harry closely, watching the way he moves and glides and swings himself around and soars graciously through the air to avoid being struck by Louis' spear. Harry is really, very talented – and he doesn't even look like he has to try. Louis is also talented, but more in a practiced-skill kind of way rather than this natural ability that seems to radiate from the curly-haired boy. 

He remembers seeing the name Styles under a portrait that looked an awful lot like Harry in the library the other day and wonders, briefly, how many generations of Styles Shadowhunters came before Harry. 

X

Liam invites him to come into the training room over dinner for the next day, which renders every Shadowhunter at the dinner table speechless. Liam, Zayn, Louis, and Perrie are all staring at him expectantly, almost hopefully. Simon looks curious, sort of surprised. Meanwhile Harry's face is unreadable, stony, eyes glaring. 

Niall is skeptical at first because he's clearly not a Shadowhunter – and he says as much, albeit hesitantly. 

"But you do have the Angel's blood in your veins, which means technically speaking you could be," Liam points. "Right, Simon?"

Simon nods. "Having the Angel's blood, even just a little bit, means you have the ability to connect with the Shadowhunter world – and everything in it."

"Which is why you can see through the veil," Perrie says.

"Which means you'll definitely be able to connect to a serif blade," Liam says.

"What about the demon blood in me? And the human blood? Won't they, I dunno – will they change anything?"

"That would be something we'd have to observe," Simon says. "In fact, having demon blood could even work to your advantage as a Shadowhunter. It could help you sense their presence, perhaps quicker and more efficiently, than-"

"It could also do more harm than good," Harry says, speaking in Niall's presence for the first time since breakfast this morning. Niall’s gaze flickers towards him, narrowing. He leans forward, folding his arms over the table in front of his plate. "If he can feel other demons then who's to say they can't feel him? We can. That's why the demon hunted him down the other day, because the demon I killed could feel him-"

"We don't know that," Simon protests.

"But it could be, right?"

"Couldn't I just use a glamour rune?" Niall asks.

"Demon glamours are different from Shadowhunter glamours," Liam explains and even he sounds unsure of his own idea now. "They're not necessarily stronger but they're more complex and a Shadowhunter has never been able to master it-"

"A Shadowhunter has never needed to master it," Louis says. "Before now."

"Would he even be able to perform a rune on himself anyway?" Harry asks Simon. "Human blood doesn't always take well to runes – what if the angel blood he does have in him isn't strong enough to protect the demon blood from burning him from the inside out? Hell, could a rune even be performed on him with the demon blood inside him?"

"These are all questions that we'll have to answer over time," Simon says. "They're things we need to think about and research before we even think about trying, just in case it ends badly. But until then, I see no harm in Niall training."

Harry scowls, leaning back heavily against plush back of his chair. He crosses his arms over his chest – Niall has to try exceptionally hard not to stare at the way his muscles flex beneath the fabric of his t-shirt.

Niall narrows his gaze. "If you have a problem with me training then just say it, Harry."

Harry fixes him with a glare. "I have a problem with you training."

"Harry!" Perrie gasps. Everyone else across the length of the table looks stunned at his words, including Louis.

"Right," Niall mutters, pushing his plate away from him before pushing himself to his feet. He swallows the lump that’s formed in his throat and avoids Harry’s gaze with everything in him. "Thank you for the meal and for inviting to me train with you but I'm just gonna – I'm gonna go."

He leaves, then, ignoring Zayn and Liam’s protests and retires to his room for the night. 

X

Niall decides to get up and go for an early morning run when he wakes up the next morning and can't get back to sleep. He runs up and down the streets around the Institute, ear buds in his ears with a cord connected to his iPhone in a band on his arm so he can listen to music and drown the world out. He's only lived in London for a short time, but he's come to know these streets like the ones back home in Mullingar, so running deaf to the world is nothing for him. In fact, it’s incredibly soothing for him.

He thinks about his life and everything that's happened over the last few days. Thinks about his family and friends back home and his friends here who don't have a clue what’s happened to him; who he can't even tell the truth. Friends he’s ignored and hasn’t spoken to in days because he doesn’t know what to tell them, doesn’t know how to lie to them.

He's only a couple blocks away from the Institute when he turns his head slightly to the left to check the street just before rounding a corner and runs right into something hard. He trips and falls over, dragging a person with him. "Arghh," he groans, rolling over on to his back as he pushes himself up. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going."

"It's okay, I wasn't watching either," a boy says in an American accent. 

Niall pushes himself to his feet and then extends his hand down towards the stranger to help him up. The stranger is a pretty-looking boy with short, light brown hair styled into a small quiff. The boy takes his hand and Niall pulls him up. "Are you hurt? Are you okay?"

"I'm good, yeah," the boy replies.

"You're far from home," Niall notes; the boy’s Canadian accent is a dead giveaway.

The boy smirks. "So are you."

Niall smirks back. "You have no idea. 'm Niall."

"Justin. Hey."

"Well, uh, I should get going – but it was nice to meet you and, uh, maybe I'll see you around," Niall says, beginning to walk backwards down the street.

"Yeah, probably – nice to meet you too."

X

Harry catches a glimpse of someone walking up the lane way through his bedroom window and he turns to focus his gaze through the glass panes to see that it's Niall. His brow furrows and his gaze narrows as he wonders, immediately, where the Irish boy could've gone so early in the morning. That's when he notices the muscle shirt – which shows off the blond boy's perfectly sculpted arms – jogging shorts and running shoes. 

He makes a mental note to tell Niall he can't just take off on his own like that. Not anymore. 

Louis walks in, then, unannounced of course and catches a glimpse of the blond-haired boy Harry's gaze is fixated on before the Irish disappears under the porch roof. "You know, several days ago you were acting all protective of Niall like he was a wounded puppy or something and now you're acting like you hate him.”

"I don't hate him," Harry mutters, turning away from the window to grab the black shirt he'd tossed on his bed when he'd been distracted by Niall.

"I know you don't."

Harry shakes his head as he pulls on his shirt. "Don't, Lou."

"I'm not saying anything-"

"You're thinking it."

"Then you know exactly what I'm going to say."

"Lou-"

"I won't, I won't," Louis reassures him, lifting his hands as a sign or surrender. "But you know."

"I can't help it," Harry mutters.

"Well, for the record, I think he's smitten with you too," Louis says, smirking smugly when a link pink blush spreads across Harry's cheeks. "Doesn't help that you've saved his life twice now. You're like his knight in shining armor – or, at least, a shiny leather jacket."

Harry scowls. "Shut up."

X

The first half of Niall's training is Liam explaining to Niall the different weapons on the weapons wall and how to use them as well how to kill various Downworlders. (Although it is common knowledge that there is somewhat of a truce between Downworlders and Shadowhunters – where they don't necessarily like one another, they just tend to tolerate each other – there are still some instances, in forms of the crazy, feral ones, in which there might not be any other choice.)

Werewolves can only be killed one of two ways: either by the angelic fire in a serif blade or by pure silver. 

Vampires can be killed a few different ways: with fire, which will burn anyone alive – live or undead, by cutting off their head and bleeding them dry (which will also kill any living being) and, just as legend says, with a wooden stake to the heart.

And demons, as Niall already knows, can only be "killed" with weapons marked with angelic energy – just like that of a serif blade.

The second half of training is Niall familiarizing himself the weapons, using various ones against a punching bag hanging from one of the beams above. Every now and then Louis, Zayn or Liam will show him the best way to hold the weapon, but other than that they leave him be.  
Harry doesn't even acknowledge his presence.

Until he does. 

"Your stance is all wrong."

Niall pauses upon hearing Harry’s voice and then shakes his head. "Negativity,” Niall mutters. “Why am I not surprised?"

"You have nice posture and the ability to be a very good fighter – a natural, if you will,” Harry drawls. “It's just that your stance is rubbish."

"Oh, so this is a back-handed compliment then?"

"Don't be rude, I'm trying to help," Harry murmurs, placing his hands on Niall’s shoulders. He moves Niall's left shoulder back, away from the punching bag on an angle to his right. 

Niall can smell Harry's aftershave the other boy is so close and it kind of makes his head spin. 

"You need to keep one shoulder back at all times when you're facing your opponent – preferably the shoulder with your dominant hand, it'll put more power into your swing. It also closes you down, gives your opponent less of a target to hit when they fight back."

"Makes sense," Niall says, nodding his head distractedly. 

"And you need to keep your feet shoulder length apart," Harry says, squatting down to push Niall's feet apart. 

Niall stares down at him as Harry looks back up, gaze traveling over Niall's body like he's checking him out, which makes Niall's cheeks blush. But then he realizes that Harry's probably just checking the space between Niall's shoulders compared to the space between his feet. He continues to stare down at Harry – imagines Harry looking back up at him with lustful, lidded eyes, imagines Harry's lips-

"There," Harry mutters, pushing himself upright so he's back to towering slightly over the blond boy. He licks his lips as he takes a step back. "You also need to put most of your weight on the balls of your feet...makes it easier to move around."

"Thanks," Niall says softly. 

Harry nods and then turns abruptly and leaves the room. 

X

Niall walks into the library, freezes and then pins himself to the side of a bookcase when he hears voices in the direction of Simon's desk. One voice belongs to Simon and the other belongs to, of course, Harry. It doesn’t take long to realize they’re talking about it him; everybody seems to be talking about him these days whether he’s present or not.

"-but he's good, right?" Simon's asking.

"Yeah, he's good-"

"And he's skillful?"

"He has the ability to be an incredibly good fighter-"

"Then he can continue to train if he wants to."

"What if he doesn't want to?" Harry protests.

"Then I'm sure he wouldn't have bothered training this morning."

"What if his body can't handle it? What if he can't handle the rune and it kills him?"

"I've already spoken to the Inquisitor and the Council believes that he will be fine. Mundanes have survived the Rune Ceremony in the past-"

"Those mundanes didn't have demon blood in their veins. What if-"

"It won't. Yes, the demon blood will no doubt react badly with the rune, but his angel's blood won't let him die. We won't let him die."

"And if he doesn't want to do it?"

"Then he doesn't have to do it. But by all means, why don't we ask him right now? Niall, come on out, lad!"

Niall blinks and then stumbles out of his hiding place and into both Simon and Harry's view. They’re all standing, now, in the middle of Simon’s office – and Niall is brought back to his first night in the Institute. He's about to ask how Simon knew he was there when he remembers both Louis and Harry saying he feels both like an angel and like a demon. Chances are they felt the demon energy before he even stepped foot in the room. In fact, Harry doesn’t even look the least bit surprised – he even looks at Niall like he had known he was there the whole time.

"What do you say, Niall?” Simon asks, sitting back on his desk with one leg perched up and over the corner. “Would you like to take part in a Rune Ceremony to become an official Shadowhunter?"

"You – I mean, it sounds dangerous,” Niall says, frowning slightly. “Right? For someone like me."

"It'll be painful, that much I can guarantee you,” Simon replies. “There haven't been a lot of mundanes to go through with the Rune Ceremony but out of the ones that have about 95 per cent of them survived and explained the whole recovery process as excruciating."

"But five per cent died. Why?"

"Because their bodies couldn't handle the process – which means their bodies were already weak to begin with. But you shouldn't have that problem because you're young and healthy."

"And I have an angel's blood in my veins."

Simon nods. "The angel's blood will save you from dying."

"What about the demon's blood?"

"It could result in a number of things, but nobody knows for sure because nothing like this has ever been recorded before."

Niall’s brow furrows in confusion. "What things?"

"A prolonged recovery process, a more excruciating pain-"

"A rejection to the rune," Harry interjects, speaking up for the first time since Niall entered the room.

"What would that mean?" Niall wonders aloud, looking to Simon for an explanation.

"It just means you can still be a Shadowhunter, but you couldn't be a Shadowhunter by The Angel,” Simon replies, sending a sideways glare at his fellow Shadowhunter.

"Which is basically useless," Harry points out.

"Harry," Simon scolds. 

"I wanna do it," Niall says, ignoring Harry.

Harry scoffs, rolling his eyes. He crosses his arms, looking like a small child after he’s just had a temper tantrum. Which, in a way, Niall reckons he has.

Simon smiles, pushing himself away from his desk. "Very well. I'll contact the Inquisitor in the morning to schedule the ceremony."

Niall smiles, avoiding Harry's gaze as he thanks Simon and then leaves the library, forgetting what he went there for in the first place.  
X  
Niall stands in front of the tall mirror in his room six days later, admiring himself in his full Shadowhunter attire – and his first thought is that his skin looks even paler in all black. Simon had gotten the outfit together for him as a surprise for his Rune Ceremony and Liam, Zayn and Perrie had burst into his room bright and early this morning to give it to him.  
Now here he is, hours later and just moments before the ceremony, trying desperately to calm the nerves taking over his entire body. 

There's a knock on his door and, without thinking, he calls out for the visitor to come in. Harry walks in, looking hesitant and awkward. He hovers in the doorway like he’s not quite sure what to do with himself. And Niall realizes he's never seen Harry look anything but confident.

"Hey," Harry greets him, closing the door behind himself. 

"Hey."

They haven't talked in days; since Simon announced when the Inquisitor and the rest of the Clave would be coming for the ceremony.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Niall rolls his eyes. "Yes."

"Because you can't take it back,” Harry murmurs, walking – almost pacing – around the room before leaning against the chest of drawers next to the bathroom door. “This isn't something you can just walk away from; you have to – you have to stay. If you do this you have to stay and if you do leave then you can't ever come back, the Clave won't allow it – you'll be exiled," he explains, the words tumbling out of his mouth quickly, like he couldn’t get them out fast enough.

"I know."

"This is, like – it's a brotherhood, you know? Once you're a Shadowhunter that's it, it's who you are and you can't...you can't be anything else. And you won't be able to tell your parents or your friends – about any of this."

Niall narrows his gaze as he finally turns around to face Harry. "Why are you trying to talk to me out it?"

Harry sighs, running a hand through his hair as he pushes himself away from the dresser. "I want you to be sure that this is what you want. You're confused and your life has been turned upside down and if this is something you want to do just because you feel like you have to then you need to not do it."

"Well you're right, I am confused and my life has been turned upside down, but I still want to do this – and not just because I'm confused and my life has been turned upside down."

Harry blinks and then nods as he looks away. "Okay." He turns to leave, then, and only stops when Niall calls him back.

"Why are you doing this? Nobody else is asking me if I'm sure, but you are. Why?" the blond boy wonders, stuffing his hands into the front pockets of his black trousers.

Harry shrugs. "None of us ever had a choice... But you get to have one – you get a choice."

"You didn't – you didn't have a choice at all?"

"You don't have a choice when you're born a Shadowhunter."

Niall looks thoughtful for a moment. "What would you choose if you had the choice now?"

"I'd still be a Shadowhunter,” Harry says, not missing a beat.

Niall's brow furrows in confusion. "Then why does it matter that you never had a choice?"

"Because it's always nice to have one, isn't it?” Harry murmurs, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looks straight at Niall. “And sometimes...sometimes I see someone like you, before you found out about all this, someone who doesn't have a clue about this world – a boy skateboarding down the sidewalk with those giant headphones, a girl skipping rope in her front yard, someone falling in love – and I...I just wonder what it's like, you know? To be...I dunno, normal. But then..."

"Then what?"

"Then I remember what I do and why I do it and it's a no brainer. I love being a Shadowhunter. It just would've been nice to have chosen it, you know?"

Niall nods.

"Can I ask you why you choose this?"

"I feel drawn to it,” Niall admits with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Like I'm supposed to be here. Like everything happened the way it did that night for a reason."

It's Harry's turn to nod.

Niall shrugs. "Maybe it's the angel blood in me, who knows."

Harry laughs and Niall realizes it's the first time he's ever heard Harry really, truly laugh.  
"C'mon, everyone's probably awaiting your arrival,” Harry says, cocking his head in the direction of the door before swinging himself around and walking towards it.

Niall laughs. "And yours."

X

Most of the ceremony is a blur to Niall; he just keeps his gaze trained on the wall in front of him, ignoring the burning eyes of a certain curly-haired boy sitting a few feet away with the other Shadowhunters. 

The Inquisitor calls him up and he pushes himself to his feet before allowing them to carry him blindly towards where she's stood at the front of the room in an all-white robe. He stands in front of her, bows his head, and then looks her in the eyes. She asks for his right hand and lifts his arm, presenting her with his wrist, which is what Simon told him he would have to do.

"Are you ready?" she asks lifting her stele, a long and oddly-shaped twig of metal, letting it hover over his skin. 

He swallows around the hard lump in his throat and takes a deep breath through his nose to calm his nerves – ignoring the twisting, uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. And then he nods. 

The Inquisitor – he forgets her name – grabs the bottom of his arm with her free hand and lowers the stele, slowly, to the skin on his wrist.

The pain is blinding. Excruciating. He groans and flinches, instinctively trying to pull his arm away from the pain but the Inquisitor's grip is stronger and tighter. He closes his eyes and lowers his head, desperately trying to close his mind off from the pain. The pain, however, only gets worse so he opens his eyes and tries to focus on the black ink of the rune the stele is burning into his wrist – but that only makes him feel sick to his stomach.

His head begins to feel heavy, his gaze is dizzy and blurry – the black on his wrist just becomes a big blob. He feels like he's either going pass out or throw up or both. 

He feels, rather than sees, the stele stop moving on his wrist and then catches a glimpse of the Inquisitor smiling at him – and all of a sudden his legs give out and his knees hit the hardwood floor with a loud thud before the rest of his body doubles over and his vision goes black. The last thing he hears before passing out all together is a deep, worried voice calling out for him.

"NIALL!"

X

Consciousness finds him, but he can't muster up the strength to open his eyes, so he just listens to the voices. 

"I told you – I told you-" Harry sounds angry, like he’s growling.

"Relax, Harry, he'll be fine. It'll just take some time for him to recover." Simon.

And then there's a voice he doesn't recognize, a calm, nurturing voice: "It's exactly as we expected; the demon blood in him tried to reject the rune but the angel blood refuses to let him go. It's like there was a battle going on inside of him between the demon and the angel and my guess is that the angel won, resulting in Mr. Horan's passing out. It's the angel's way of helping him recover – not only from the process itself, but also from the damage the demon blood caused while trying to reject the rune."  
The voices begin to fade as the darkness claims his consciousness.

X

"How long does recovery typically take?"

"For a mundane, usually between two to three weeks. But Niall is no ordinary mundane, Harry."

X

"Please, please wake up."

X

Niall wakes up, finally able to keep his eyes open longer than a few seconds, to see Harry sitting in a chair next to his bed, asleep with one of Niall's hands clasped in his and his face tucked into the crook of his arm. He admires him for a moment, taking in the hard – yet somehow soft – lines of his face and his long eyelashes and his unruly hair before squeezing Harry's hand. 

Harry wakes up slowly, rubbing his eyes with his free hand as he yawns and looks up at Niall. It doesn't register, at first, that Niall is looking back at him until he sees the blond boy's smile light up his face and reach into his beautiful blue eyes. "Niall! You're awake," he says, voice raspy and sleepy but all-together happy.

"Hey," Niall croaks – and then he chokes because his throat is so, so dry. And only then does he realize it kind of hurts too. 

"Wait, here, I'll get you some water," Harry tells him, letting go of the blond boy's hand as he pushes himself to his feet and then marches across the bedroom to the bathroom. He’s wearing a pair of sweatpants and an old, holy jumper. This is the first time Niall’s ever seen him in anything but his black trousers, t-shirt and boots. He comes back with a glass of water and gives it to Niall, who drinks the whole thing down in seconds.

"Thanks," Niall murmurs as Harry takes the glass back and places it on the table next to Niall’s bed.

"How are you feeling?" the brunette ask softly, sitting on the edge of the mattress. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

"I'm good, yeah, I think," Niall replies. "I'm hungry, actually."

Harry smirks. "Yeah, well, you haven't eaten in properly in ages."

"How long have I been out?"

"Three and a half weeks. They were expecting longer, actually, so this is good."

"Jesus."

"I'll go get Simon – and some food. Simon and some food," Harry says, walking backwards towards the door. He flashes a smile, then. One with bright white teeth and dimples in both cheeks. 

X

Simon comes back first with a lady named Johannah Darling, a nurse for the sick and/or wounded Shadowhunters (and also Louis' mum.) She checks him over, helps him stand to stretch his legs, which wobble slightly due to lack of use, and then orders that he be on bed rest for at least three more days. Niall hates the idea of being on bed rest, especially now that he feels fine and the Enkeli rune on his wrist no longer hurts, but he understands. 

About 10 minutes later it’s Liam who brings in a tray of food, claiming that something came up with Harry and that he had to take off. 

Harry doesn't come back at all that day. Or the next three.

X

On the fourth day of his recovery Niall is allowed to get out of bed and the first place he goes, after Johannah brings him breakfast, is the training room. Liam, Zayn and Perrie bound towards him excitedly, hugging him and pulling him towards the weapons like nothing’s changed. Like Niall hadn’t just spent nearly four weeks unconscious in a makeshift hospital bed in his bedroom. Even Louis, who has never shown Niall any ounce of humbleness since he arrived all those weeks ago, pats him on the back.

Harry doesn't do or say much of anything except give him a small wave and an even smaller smile.  
X  
Niall is beginning to feel like a real Shadowhunter now, having improved tremendously over the last two weeks of training. He's even beginning to feel like he belongs here, feels like he can actually call Liam, Zayn, Perrie and even Louis friends. Harry, however, is another story. Some days things between them are great and they can talk about everything and anything for hours on end and then other days it's like Harry doesn't want anything to do with him. (Some days it's like they have a connection, like Harry can see right through him into his soul and he can see right into Harry's and then other days it's like the connection is lost and Harry is always the one who severs it.)

He'd really like to know what Harry's problem is on those days, why he becomes so cold and distant with him – and only him, he’s noted several times now – and he thinks about asking him sometimes on the good days but he's afraid because he doesn't want to push Harry away again. So he doesn't ask and he just takes what he gets, even if it means pretending not to notice. 

(The truth is, Niall notices everything about Harry; commits these things to memory. The way he looks after he's just woken up, the way he smells so delicious, the way he's always pushing his hair back away from his face – sometimes tames his unruly curls beneath a headband-bandana, the way he throws his head back and clamps his hands over his mouth when he laughs really hard – mostly at Louis.)

When Simon walks into the training room one day to tell them about an incident in Knotting Hill and Harry offers to investigate and then Niall jumps at the chance to go with him – that's the moment that turns a good day into a bad day. Niall can almost feel, immediately, the way Harry’s mood shifts.

"What? No," Harry says incredulously, looking forward at Simon. "He's not ready-"

"I am ready," Niall protests. 

"No you're not,” Harry snaps, turning his head to glare at the blond boy standing next to him. “You're not – you've never been in the field before, you don't know what you're doing."

"How am I supposed to get knowledge if I don't go out in the field?" Niall argues.

"I'm not saying you can't go out in the field, I'm just saying you can't-"

"Go out in the field with you," Niall finishes, brows furrowed in anger. 

Harry sputters, looking guilty. "No, that's not – I didn't mean... It's just that we don't know what we're expecting and I think it's too soon-"

"Well I don't."

Harry sighs, turning once more to face Simon. "Simon-"

"I don't think it's a bad idea, Harry. In fact I think the first time he goes into the field it should be with you and now's as good a time as any," Simon says, clapping Niall on the back with approval. "Now go on, both of you. Call if you need backup."

Harry scowls, turning on his heel and stalking out of the room. Niall rolls his eyes and lifts his hand in a silent wave before jogging his way out after Harry.

X

"Are you really not gonna talk to me just because Simon let me come with you?"

Niall is met with nothing but silence as Harry ignores him and continues to walk quietly through the warehouse. Simon had explained that passersby had reported strange noises and happenings from inside the warehouse the last couple of days. Strange noises isn’t usually something the Shadowhunters would normally investigate, it’s just that the descriptions running through the rumor mill – which is something Shadowhunters have been keeping tabs on for centuries, Niall’s learned – sound a bit more suspicious than just “strange noises”.

"Right, well, surprise surprise," Niall mutters, following Harry quietly through the warehouse. "Are you bipolar or something?"

"I'm not bipolar,” Harry scoffs.

"Then why is it that sometimes we're inseparable and other times you act like you don't even know me?" Niall asks, finally. And even though he knows he probably won’t get an answer it’s like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

"I'm not – that's not what I'm... It's complicated,” Harry finally manages to say, avoiding Niall’s gaze.

"So I'm right, then. I'm not just paranoid-"

"Shh – listen," he whispers, catching Niall off guard as he presses both of them against the wall. "Do you feel it?"

They’re chest-to-chest. He feels Harry’s warmth and his breath against his own skin and feels the length and hardness of Harry’s body against his own, gets distracted by the scent of Harry’s aftershave and then – demon energy. It’s like pins and needles pricking at his skin and making the blood in his veins feel hot. He shivers. "Yeah,” he breathes.

"A demon's definitely been here."

"Yeah," Niall whispers again, voice shaking slightly. 

Harry looks at him. "Are you afraid?"

Niall admits something to Harry he would never admit to anyone else. "A little bit."

"Do-do you want to go? I can handle this alone if-"

Niall shakes his head. "No way. I'm good."

Harry sighs softly. "Niall, you don't have to prove anything to me-"

"I'm not, I'm good to go," Niall insists. 

Harry raises his eyebrows.

"If I'm trying to prove anything to anyone it's to meself and it's that I can do this in real life. I'm good to go."

"Okay."

"Should we split up?" Niall asks, because that's what they do in the crime dramas he watches on TV.

"Absolutely not," Harry scoffs as he pulls them both away from the wall before he starts to walk away in the direction of where the demon energy is getting stronger.  
Niall blinks and clears the lump out of his throat before following the more experienced Shadowhunter.

X

It turns out they do end up splitting up, but only when they realize that one of the rooms is occupied by something and only to enter the room from both sides – because it has two doors and Harry doesn't want it to be able to escape through the second – and only because they don't have to split up for too long. Harry tells Niall to wait exactly two minutes, leaves Niall at one door and then jogs around to the other. So Niall counts out 120 Mississippi's in his head – raises his serif blade in his left hand at 115 – and then throws open the door. 

Unsurprisingly, Harry bursts through the other door at the same time – which startles the occupant in the room behind some storage boxes. 

The occupant is just a boy; looks like a boy anyway. 

Harry shouts for the boy not to move before rushing forward. Niall follows instinctively, coming up behind Harry both for protection and to get a closer look – and that's when he recognizes the boy. Justin. 

"Harry-" Niall starts, cutting himself off when Harry grabs Justin by the front of his shirt to pull him out from behind the boxes.

"Ow – ow! Okay!" Justin yells.

"Harry, stop – Harry!" Niall shouts, grabbing the Shadowhunter's arm to pull him away from a fearful-looking Justin. "Harry, I-"

"N-Niall?" Justin stutters, sounding confused and relieved at the same time.

Harry's eyes widen, his right hand still clutching Justin's shirt as he tears his gaze away to look at Niall. "You know him?"

Niall blinks, looking between them. "I – yeah. I bumped into him a couple weeks ago when I went for a run," he explains. 

"So you don't actually know him, then."

"No, but he's-"

"What are you doing in here?" Harry asks harshly, looking back at Justin.

Justin’s eyes are wide as he stares at Niall for a moment longer and then looks at Harry. "I was just, uh, I was walking by and I heard some noises so-"

"So you just decided to investigate an abandoned warehouse, is that it?"

Niall sighs. "Harry, let him go."

"Let me handle this, Niall."

"He's not – Harry he isn't one of them."

"One of what?" Justin asks, lifting his arms up to detach Harry's hand from his shirt as Niall pulls curly haired lad back.

Niall steps forward, then, wedging himself between Harry and Justin. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Justin smiles sheepishly. "I'm fine. What are you guys doing in here?"

"That's none of your business," Harry snaps.

"Harry, can I talk to you for a second?" Harry grunts as Niall grabs his arm and pulls him a few feet away; far enough away that Justin can’t hear them but close enough so they can still see him. "He isn't a demon."

Harry’s brow furrows in frustration. "How do you know that? I can still feel it-"

"He isn't what you're feeling, Harry. He's not. I literally ran him over the first time I saw him and he isn't a demon."

"Then what the fuck is he doing here?"

"I don't know, but-"

"Exactly, you don't know – just like you don't know anything about him," Harry snaps harshly, surprising even Niall for a moment.

Niall rolls his eyes. "I know he isn't a demon, Harry, and that's it. He isn't a threat."

Harry glances back at Justin to find him watching them. Justin actually does look pretty nervous and scared; definitely not threat material – not to mention the fact that, admittedly, Justin doesn’t feel (or smell) like a demon. The stench and the energy would be far stronger if Justin were a demon. Yet something still doesn't sit right with him. 

"He's just a mundane who stumbled into this without even knowing it – just like me," Niall points out quietly.

"Except you actually aren't just a mundane-"

"It's the same idea, Harry, don't be a dick,” Niall snaps, glaring at the curly haired boy in front of him. “Let’s just get him – and us – out of here. The energy is dissipating by the second, there can't be any demons here."

"Fine," Harry agrees. He turns on his heels then and begins to walk away, knowing that Niall will follow.

And Niall does follow, beckoning Justin to come with them. "So you really just ran in here by yourself after you heard a noise?"

Justin shrugs sheepishly. "I live down the street and I was coming home from the music store when I heard a bunch of noise. I thought someone was in trouble."

Ahead of them, Harry scoffs.

Justin seemly ignores the Shadowhunter, which amuses Niall. "Can I ask again what brought you guys here?"

"More or less the same idea," Niall replies.

"Is that why your friend up there tried to assault me?"

"He just got carried away, figured if the person was hiding it was because they had something to hide," Niall replies before Harry can retort. 

"Or, maybe, the person was scared of whoever was going to find him. I heard you guys coming, thought if I hid I could save my ass."

They're outside now, about to go separate ways when Justin turns to Niall. "Thanks. For not letting your friend beat me up,” he says, extending his hand between them.  
“No problem, mate,” Niall snickers, shaking the boy’s hand. He’s vaguely aware of the fact that Harry has seen them, scowled and has leaned against a wooden fence surrounding the lot to wait for him.  
“We should hang out some time, since we're both kind of...not from around here, I guess."

Niall smiles, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "Yeah, um, let me give you my number. If you ever need anything, just ring me."

Justin pulls his mobile out of his pocket and hands it to Niall, who quickly punches his own cellphone number into Justin’s phonebook. "Will do, bro, see ya around," Justin says, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

Niall says bye as Justin turns to walk away and then turns around to find Harry glaring at him, the Shadowhunter’s arms folded over his chest. 

"Done flirting?"

"I wasn't flirting,” the blond replies.

"He was flirting."

Niall rolls his eyes. "He wasn't flirting either."

X

They return to the Institute and go straight into the library to find Simon to tell him the demons were gone by the time they got to warehouse. Simon had already suspected as much. Harry, then, mentions Justin as though implying that maybe not all of the demons were gone.

"He was just a mundane," Niall says, rolling his eyes at Harry before turning to face and talk to Simon directly. "He didn't feel like a demon at all and he didn't feel like one when I met him a couple weeks ago."

"So you know him?" Simon asks.

"Not personally, no. But I bumped right into him and we both fell on the ground so I helped him up. He doesn't feel anything like a demon, not even a little bit."

"That's it then."

"Don't you think it's weird that he was there?" Harry asks Simon. "Why would a mundane just happen to stumble into an abandoned warehouse where there was just demon activity?"

"He already told us why-"

"Yeah, he heard some noises and he went to investigate. But he could be lying," Harry snaps.

"Or he could be telling the truth,” Niall retorts, mirroring Harry’s earlier, stubborn stance of folding his arms over his chest.

Harry’s brow furrows. "Why do you keep defending him?"

"Why do you keep attacking him?"

"That's enough," Simon drawls, crossing his arms over his chest. "You went and you found nothing there but a mundane boy, probably just being reckless. End of story. I'll send word to the Clave and they'll set up surveillance on the building just in case there's more activity. Now go get something to eat and then get some rest."

Harry leaves in a huff, not even waiting for Niall to follow – and Niall knows that this is going to turn into another slew of bad days with Harry avoiding him at all costs.

X

After training a couple days later Harry finds out that Niall is going to hang out with Justin through Liam, who asks Niall what their plans are. The tight feeling in Harry’s chest sets him off and now the two of them have found themselves fighting about it – what, exactly, it is they’re fighting about remains unknown to the both of them – in the front lobby. 

"Fine, whatever,” Harry scoffs angrily. “Go hang out with Justin."

"I will!” Niall spits, shoving both arms through the sleeves of his jacket. “At least he doesn't jerk our friendship around every other day like some people I know."

"You've known him for all of a week, what kind of friendship could that even be?!" Harry shouts and, well, he actually really does want to know what kind of friendship Niall has with this other boy.

Niall flips him the bird over his shoulder has he leaves, slamming the front door shut if for no other reason than for dramatic effect. 

Harry growls in frustration, pushing his hands through his hair, just as Louis comes around the corner and joins him in the lobby. 

"Where's Niall going?"

"Who cares?" Harry mutters rhetorically.

"You do, obviously."

"He can hang out with whoever he wants to."

Louis quirks an eyebrow. "Is he hanging out with Justin again?"

Harry blinks, feeling his stomach sink. "How many times have they hung out?"

"You're jealous," Louis smirks. 

"Shut up, Lou-"

"Oh my God, you are!"

Harry rolls his eyes and walks away.

X

Niall doesn't come back until dinner – and by then everyone has already sat down to eat. He apologizes for being late as he sits in his usual seat directly across from Harry, causing Harry to scowl and roll his eyes. This time Niall ignores him completely.

X

The next several days follow the same kind of routine: Niall hangs out with Justin, Harry becomes moody and Niall takes a page out of Harry's book and ignores the brunette the best he can. It’s easier said and done, that, but Niall’s nothing if not determined to feed Harry a dose of his own cold, hard medicine.

Even when Niall isn't with Justin, he busies himself with training wherever Harry isn't and hanging out with Liam and Zayn because as much as he wants to see Harry, he's too stubborn to be the first one to give in. 

On the ninth day of their little spat – which has the entire Institute on the edge of their proverbial seats – after Niall hangs out with Justin a total of six times (not that either of them are counting), Niall is in the training room alone when Louis walks in, adjusting a black glove around his right hand. 

Niall pauses for the briefest moment in his attack on the punching back swinging back and forth in front of him. "If you're looking for Harry, he isn't here," he tells him.

Louis smirks. "I was looking for you, actually."

Niall’s brow furrows. "Oh. Why?"

"There’re just a few things I want to speak with you about-"

"If you're here to lecture me about Justin I don't want to hear it. We're just friends and we just hang out sometimes, it's not a big deal."

"I'm here to lecture you about Harry."

Niall blinks. "Why? Look, he started it, okay? He's the one acting like a complete dick, so-"

"Believe me, I know he is," Louis agrees, grabbing his favourite practice spear off the weapons wall and swinging it around his shoulders and over his head. "He's my best mate and all but, yeah, he's being a dick to you. There's no question. It's just...it's just that that's just how he gets sometimes."

The blond arches a skeptical eyebrow as he swings the long, wooden pole in his hands around to hit his punching bag hanging. "Just sometimes? Seems a little more frequent than just sometimes."

Louis sighs. "Ok, so he's been a dick more frequently as of late,” he concedes, “but he's just...he's protective and he doesn't know how go about it."

"He protects the world on a daily, how does he not know how to go about it?"

"I know – I know it doesn't make sense,” Louis admits, swinging his spear around in Niall’s direction; Niall dodges the would-be contact easily. “It's just how he is; he gets protective and clingy and then he gets distant and acts like a dick because he feels too protective and clingy, too vulnerable. And I know it must be incredibly frustrating trying to figure out if he genuinely likes you or hates you, but just...it's sort of like the ruder he is to you right now, while he's trying to figure it all out in his head, the more he does, genuinely like you. And it doesn't help that Justin is now in the picture because he feels like Justin is taking your friendship away from him a little bit."

Niall blinks, taken aback. "H-he told you all that?"

Louis shakes his head. "I've known Harry almost my whole life, we grew up together. He doesn't have to tell me anything."

"Has he always been like this?"

"More or less," Louis replies, shrugging his shoulders. "He's always been a little guarded but it kind of got worse after his folks died."

Niall frowns. "When did they die?"

"He was 14 when his father passed. Seventeen when his mother did."

"And did they..?"

"Die on the job? More or less."

Silence falls between them as Niall lets everything sink in.

"Look," Louis starts, looking and sounding genuine, "all I really wanted to tell you is that he does care about you – and to ask you not to be too hard on him. Quite frankly you'll never be harder on him that he is on himself on a constant basis."

X

Niall musters up the courage to walk down the hall to Harry's room. He walks in to find Harry curled up on his bed reading. Harry sits up the moment he sees Niall and closes the book after dog-earing the corner of the page he's on before placing it very carefully on his bedside table next to a glass of water. 

"H-hey," Harry stutters, pushing himself up to lean against the headboard. 

"I'm sorry I've been ignoring you," Niall murmurs softly. 

"'s nothing I haven't done to you before," Harry shrugs. 

"Still; it's wrong."

Harry nods.

Niall finds himself hovering awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot, so he decides to lean against Harry’s own personal bookshelf. "I know you don't trust him but Justin isn't taking my friendship away from you, Harry. Not at all."

Harry glances down at his lap, where he's playing with his fingers. "'s what it feels like."

"He's not."

"Then why do you always want to hang out with him?" Harry asks sharply, his gaze snapping back up at Niall. 

Niall shrugs his shoulders, looking straight ahead at Harry. "Because he makes me feel normal."

Harry looks confused.

The blond boy swallows around the nervous lump in his throat, taking a deep breath to remind himself that this is what he came in here for. "A few months ago my life got turned upside down by a boy in the bathroom at a pub I’d never even been to before and ever since then, since learning what I am, I've been feeling like a bit of a freak – not that you guys are freaks, because you aren't at all, I just... It's just that before all this I was just a regular, every day, 20-something and now everything is just so different and I'm not...I'm not who I was before. And Justin is just so normal and cool. I mean, all we do is play video games and talk about music but it just feels so normal compared to all this. And I just need a little bit of normal in my life right now considering everything else is so not normal.

"And that's not to say that I don't enjoy being here with you and everyone else because I do – I really do. I'm just not ready to let go of the mundane things in my life. You know?"

"Yeah," Harry murmurs, nodding his chin slightly. "Yeah, I get that."

"I should go," Niall says, moving towards the door. "Should get some sleep. G’night, Haz.”

Harry smiles softly, genuinely – so softly that only one dimple appears in one cheek. “G’night, Ni.”

X

Harry wakes up the following morning with an idea: hang out with Niall and make him feel as normal as possible. He’d wanted to suggest something of the sort the night before, when Niall had made his admission, but the blond had looked tired and Harry just hadn’t known what to say. He bounds across the hall to Niall's room only to find it empty so he goes straight to the dining hall. When in doubt, Niall’s almost always in the dining hall.  
Niall's there with Zayn and Perrie, having breakfast. He sits in his seat across from Niall, shovels three pancakes onto his plate along with a banana and a few other pieces of fruit and asks Niall if he has plans.  
Niall says he's going to hang out with Justin after training. 

"Oh," Harry mutters, cursing his voice for sounding so disappointed. 

"Why? Did you want to do something?" Niall asks curiously. 

Harry shrugs indifferently, despite the disappointment bubbling in his chest. "Yeah, but it's fine."

"Well I can cancel-"

"No, no, it's fine," Harry says, shaking his head. Yes, he would love for Niall to cancel but he doesn't want to come across as desperate; doesn't want Niall to think he's desperate even if he is. "I'll just ask Lou."

"Ask me what?" Louis asks, walking into the room. 

Harry blinks; he really hadn't planned on asking Louis at all. "Um, just – I wanted to do something fun today."

Louis snorts. "What? Like, train all day?"

Harry rolls his eyes. "No. I wanted to get out and do something normal." He sees Niall blink and then look down at his plate, a small smile pulling at his lips. "Just, you know, like-"

"Like going to the theatre?"

"Maybe, yeah. You want to?"

Louis nods, glancing over at the blond boy before he looks back at Harry suspiciously. "Sure, yeah."

X

Niall gets back to the Institute later in the evening and hears a piano being played in the sitting room down the hall from the front foyer. Curious, he goes to investigate and finds Harry sitting at the old, grand piano in the far corner of the room. He's playing a beautiful melody, one Niall has never heard before. He walks towards the piano, not even trying to keep his presence hidden and sits next to Harry on the bench as Harry's fingers begin to slow and then stop all together. 

"That was beautiful," Niall whispers. 

The corners of Harry's lips lift into a small, almost shy smile. "Thanks."

"I didn't know you played the piano."

Harry shrugs, clasping his hands together between his knees. "My mum started to teach me how to play when I was young. She used to play all the time, like, kind of obsessively after my dad died. And I would always sit next to her and just listen; I loved listening to her play and watching her always made me want to play so I asked her to teach me."

Niall nods. "How long has she been gone?"

"Five years, almost six. I actually haven't played since she died."

"'s like riding a bike then, huh?"

Harry cracks a grin. "A little bit, yeah."

"Yeah, I play the guitar."

Harry nods. "I saw one in your flat, but it was-"

"Smashed to pieces by a demon?” Niall smirks, almost sadly. “Yeah."

Silence falls between them as Niall runs his fingers lightly across the white keys if the piano. He doesn't know how to play, but he's always found the piano quite interesting, quite...elegant. And knowing now that Harry can play the piano, of all musical instruments, intrigues him even more.

"You know, having just played for the first time in years, I think...I think this is normal for me," Harry admits softly. "I think this is the first normal thing I've done in years."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I feel the same way about playing the guitar."

"Why don't you get a new one?"

"I don't have the money for a new one," Niall shrugs. "Especially since you made me quit my job."

Harry blinks. "Right. Sorry."

Niall shrugs again and clears his throat. "So, it's okay if you don't want to because we can just do something else, but Justin and a couple of his friends are going to a show tomorrow and they have two extra tickets so he told me to invite you. Do you want to go?"

Harry looks surprised, taken aback. "He told you to invite me."

"You're the one who doesn't like him, Haz," Niall points out. "I've never said anything about him not liking you. And like I said, we don't have to go-"

Harry shakes his head. "No, no – let’s go."

"Yeah?" Niall asks, looking genuinely excited. 

"Yeah. Why not?" Harry shrugs – because, if nothing else, this is his chance to prove to Niall that he isn't always a dick.

X

Niall leads Harry into the dark pub and Harry follows closely because as much as he has a past of frequenting pubs, he's never been to this one in particular. That, and, while Niall is trying to rush about the joint in search of Justin and his pals, Harry likes to take his time in looking around and searching for all the exits – a Shadowhunter thing he’s picked up over the years. Search for all possible exits before entering a building as well as when you’re entering a room; knowing where your exits are could be the difference between life and death.

Harry takes quick note of the exits and some of the people – and then, as if on cue, he hears Niall belting out Justin's name. If Niall hears him scowl, he doesn’t say anything.

"Justin! Oi, Bieber!"

Niall takes Harry's hand and pulls him through the crowd towards the bar, where Justin is standing alone. Harry tries to concentrate more on the warmth of Niall's hand and the callousness of his strong fingers and less on the uneasiness he feels in his stomach at the idea of seeing Justin so up close and personal. 

"Hey, you guys made it!" Justin shouts, beer in hand as he brings Niall in for a tight, one-armed hug before he pulls back and sticks his hand out for Harry to shake. "Nice to see you again, Harry."

Shaking Justin's hand means letting go of Niall's, which he would really rather not do but he does it anyway. "Likewise."

"Where are your friends?" Niall asks, glancing around the crowded room.

Justin shrugs, taking a sip of his beer before answering. "They couldn't make it either, so it's just me."

"That sucks. So who's the band, anyway?"

And that's when Harry stops listening. Because as much as he likes music, he doesn't really care who the band is or where they're from or how popular they are. Instead, he focuses his mind and his gaze on Niall. Niall, with all his blond hair and blue eyes and pale skin; Niall, whose hair is glowing purple – and red and blue and then purple again – under the lights in the pub.

Harry wants to leave, wants to take Niall with him so they're alone but the excited smile on Niall's face is about the only thing that keeps him still.

X

Part way through the show and two beers in, Harry leaves their little group to go to the washroom and when he comes back, two more beers in hand – one for himself, one for Niall because Justin can get his own – he sees Justin standing incredibly close to Niall, one arm thrown over the blond boy’s shoulders. He pauses for a moment, watches Justin lean in to whisper something in Niall ear, sees Niall throw his head back in laughter and decides that he can't be here anymore. He can't continue to watch Justin flirt with Niall right in front of him. He can't continue to watch Niall act clueless, like he doesn't even care.

He makes his way back through the crowd, glaring at a few people who bump into him; his hand flies to the blade hiding under his jacket on his belt and he has to remind himself to keep it in check. When he reaches Niall, he taps him on the shoulder and then hands him his beer before pushing the other into Justin's hands. "I'm gonna head out," he says loudly into the side of Niall’s face so he can be heard over the sound of the band.

Niall’s brow furrows in something like disappointment. "What? Why?"

"I'm just not – I have a headache and I'm just not feeling well. I'll see you later." He turns and leaves, then, before Niall can stop him.

Except Niall does stop him because he barely makes it out the front door when he hears Niall's voice calling after him. He tries to ignore him, to keep walking as he ignores the curious glances of the smokers lingering outside the pub. Tries to ignore the way his stomach has crawled into his throat.

"Harry – Haz, hang on!"

Harry groans, stops walking and turns around to face Niall. "What, Niall?"

Niall stops in front of him, breathing heavily with wide eyes. "Why are you leaving?"

"I already told you-"

"And I don't believe it for a second, so why are you leaving?" Niall demands, glaring hard at Harry.

Harry sighs. "It doesn't matter, okay? I'm just-"

"It matters to me, Harry," Niall snaps. "Is it – is it Justin? I thought you guys were getting along."

"We were."

"Then what's the problem?"

"He likes you, Niall!" Harry shouts, his voice quivering slightly. He hates it. "He fucking likes you and I don't – I can't just-" He cuts himself off, his gaze dropping to the floor.

"Can't just what?"

"Nothing, forget it." Harry shakes his head and turns to leave again but Niall follows him, gets ahead of him and forces him to stop. He sighs. "Niall-"

Niall jabs a finger into Harry's chest. "Stop walking away from me and just tell me what the hell you're talking about! For once, just stop pushing me away and talk to me."

"I can't just stand by and watch the two of you be all over each other, okay?!" Harry blurts out, unable to keep the words from pouring out of his mouth – or his heart. He's tried so hard for so long to keep it all inside and now, with Niall looking at him desperately, he can't help it. But that doesn't stop his eyes from widening in shock and fear at his out admission.

Niall blinks. "What?"

"Please don't make me say it again. I can't say it again."

"Then just explain it to me-"

Harry sighs. "Explain what?"

"I dunno, whatever's going through your head right now – whatever's been going through your head since I met you."

"You wanna know what's been going through my head since I met you?" Harry asks harshly, his gaze narrowing. He knows he shouldn’t be this aggressive, this angry for something as mundane as talking about his feelings except, well, he’d much rather fight a demon than talk about his feelings. "You. You've been in my head from the moment I met you and you haven't left – I haven't been able to get rid of you. You've just been there all the time and that's why I would push you away and pretend like I couldn't bear to be near you because you're all I can think about and it drives me crazy. Everything is always about you and I've never – this has never happened to me before. I hate getting close to people, I hate feeling vulnerable and I don't usually spend too much time trying to know someone and yet I want to know everything about you. And I just want to be with you – not even doing anything, I just want to do nothing with you and I want to be normal with you and I don't want you to hang out with Justin, which is why I get so mad when you do because all you ever seem to do is hang out with him and talk about him and...and I want it to be me."

Niall shakes his head slightly, looking incredulous. "Harry, it is you," he says, laughing softly as though it's the most obvious think in the world. 

Harry's breath catches in his throat and he blinks, caught off guard. "W-what?"

The blond smiles, tilting his head to the side as he takes a step closer to Harry. "You want to know what I talk about when I'm with Justin? You."

Harry blinks. "S-so you don't like Justin?"

Niall chuckles disbelievingly. "How many times do I have to tell you we're just friends, Haz? And, besides, I just ran out here after you because I didn't want you to leave. What more do you want me to do?"

"Leave with me," Harry murmurs, looking hopeful. Desperate. "Come back home with me."

The blond lets his head fall to side skeptically. "And leave him in there alone?"

"You've already left him alone, so yes."

"And then what?"

"And then I take you on a date. Tomorrow. We can spend the whole day together. I mean, if you want to-"

"I have a better idea," Niall replies, smiling mischievously. "Let's go get something to eat and we can call it a date and then if all goes well, which it will, I'll let you take me out tomorrow."

Harry grins and feels his heartbeat pick up speed in his chest. "Deal." He doesn’t know if he’s more terrified or excited.

X

Harry and Niall are all giggles and intertwined fingers and hushed voices when they get back to the Institute and Harry promises to walk Niall back to his room like a gentleman with Niall’s arm looped through his own. 

They stand awkwardly outside Niall's bedroom door, as most first dates go. Niall leans against his door, tilts his head just so to look up at him asks him if he wants to come inside and Harry answers with a very desperately whispered yes. Niall then tugs on his hand to pull him in, but Harry stops himself with a hand on the doorframe next to Niall’s head.

"I can't," the dark-haired boy groans, letting his shoulders fall softly against the doorframe in place of his hand.

Niall pouts. "But you said-"

"I said I want to, because I do want to. I just can't."

"Why not?"

"First date."

Niall snorts, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Seriously?"

"Yes," Harry replies, nodding his head. "I haven't gone on very many dates but the ones I have been on all ended in sex and then the relationships all ended. I want to do it right this time."

Niall smiles as the heat rises in his cheeks, staining them pink. "Fair enough."

"Goodnight, Niall," Harry murmurs.

"Goodnight, Harry."

Harry turns, hands clasped behind his back, to retire to his room. 

Niall surges forward, then, and grabs Harry's arm to turn him back around before planting a soft, chaste kiss to Harry's dimpled cheek. He whirls around afterwards and walks quickly back to his own room whilst Harry lingers in the hallway a beat longer than necessary before shutting himself away in his room.  
X  
For the second morning in a row Harry finds himself bounding across the hall into Niall's room. Only instead of Niall already being gone, the Irish boy is still asleep in his bed. Harry had had every intention of getting him up and dressed and fed and out the door as early as possible so they could spend as much of the day together as possible, but now that he's looking at Niall and seeing him asleep – the word angel comes to mind for this boy again – he can't bring himself to disturb him. So, instead, he scribbles a note to tell the blond boy that he's making breakfast for them and that if Niall wakes up before Harry gets back to just meet him in the kitchen. 

He practically skips his way down the hallway. 

X

Harry’s walking back towards Niall's room, a large tray with two covered plates on it in his hands just as Louis is coming out of his own bedroom. 

"Is that breakfast? For me? You shouldn't have, Harold!" Louis exclaims.

"Shh, Niall might still be asleep," Harry scolds him, turning away when Louis tries to reach for one of the lids on the plates. "And I didn’t; this is for Niall and I, not for you."

Louis quirks an eyebrow. "You made breakfast in bed for Niall?"

"Yes."

"You've never made breakfast in bed for me," Louis pouts. 

Harry rolls his eyes. 

"So are you two a thing now, then?"

"Yes – no – I dunno. We haven't – we kind of had a date last night, but it was more of a pre-date than a date date, you know?"

Louis frowns. "No, I don't, because what the hell does that even mean?"

Harry snickers and rolls his eyes playfully. "You wouldn't understand."

"Right, I think I'm glad for that then. So what's the breakfast for?"

Harry shrugs. "I thought it would be a nice gesture before we spend the day together. It is a nice gesture, isn't it?"

Louis smirks, shaking his head in mock pity. "Oh, Harold, as confident as you are in killing things, you're absolute crap at dating."

Harry's eyes widen in fear and an uneasy, queasy feeling takes over his stomach. "So it's not a nice gesture?"

"No, idiot, of course it's a nice gesture – it's beyond nice. I just think it's endearing how decidedly not confident you are in taking a boy out on a date considering you've already killed two demons in his presence."

Harry blinks. "Right. Yeah."

"Simon might be pissed you're skipping out on training today though," Louis points out.

"I know. Cover for us?"

"Yeah, like he isn't going to figure it out on his own anyway."

Harry groans, "Lou-"

"I will, I will," the feathery-haired boy chuckles. "Have a great day."

Louis leaves, leaving Harry alone in the corridor outside Niall's door. He takes a deep breath before balancing the tray in his left hand and opening the door with his right. 

The room is bright now, the curtains having been opened – which means Niall must have gotten up to open them – and the blond boy is lying amongst his blankets and pillows. He's awake, smiling lazily at Harry from across the room. 

"Good morning," Harry greets him.

"Morning," Niall murmurs groggily as he pushes himself up and cards a hand through his messy hair. And Harry decides, then, that he could live for Niall's morning voice and bed head. 

"How long have you been awake?"

"About 10 minutes," Niall shrugs. "I was gonna join you in the kitchen, but I rather liked the idea of you bringing breakfast to me."

Harry smirks. "Using me for my cooking skills, I see."

"To be fair I didn't even know you could cook."

"I can bake too."

Niall smiles. "You can cook, you can bake, you can play the piano, you're incredibly neat, you can kill demons in the blink of an eye – is there anything you can't do?"

Harry rolls his eyes as he hands Niall the tray and then crawls on to the bed beside him. 

"Smells delicious," Niall murmurs, lifting the lid on his plate to reveal two slices of French toast, some sausages and bacon, a small bowl of maple syrup and another bowl of fruit. "Looks delicious too."

Harry grins triumphantly.

"So what's the plan today?"

"Eat first."

Niall smirks. "Don't have to tell me twice."

X

After eating breakfast in Niall's bed and then waiting for Niall to get changed – in which Harry playfully tossed around some of Niall's clothing as the blond boy went through every shirt he owns before deciding on a plain white tank top and blue, button-down short-sleeved shirt which he leaves open – Harry manages to sneak them both out of the Institute without getting caught. 

First they go to Regents Park, where Harry brings him on a boat to tour some of the river – during which Niall reminds Harry of an enthusiastic man-child who points out anything and everything. Then they go to a small cafe to order food before taking it up to Primrose Hill to have a makeshift picnic – during which Niall starts a mini food fight before Harry manages to pin Niall to the checkered blanket mere seconds before they’re rudely interrupted by a curious squirrel looking for left-overs. After that they just end up walking around aimlessly, talking about everything and nothing.

Talking to Niall and being with Niall is easy, Harry decides. Not to mention the fact that this is, by far, the best date he's ever had. 

They decide to watch the sunset whilst talking about Niall's parents and where he grew up. Niall reveals that he'd always been close with his parents but after finding out he was adopted when he was 16, things slowly but surely became more and more weird between them. And now this, the life he has now and the truth he now knows, kind of explains everything. He also reveals that he hasn't spoken to either of his parents in weeks; that he misses them more than he lets on.

Harry tells Niall that even though he can't tell his parents the truth about the Shadowhunter world – at least not right now – he shouldn't shut them out either. "They raised you,” he says softly. “They love you. And that's something you don't really think about until they aren't around anymore.” (Niall thinks he's talking from experience.)

Niall then asks how Harry's dad died and Harry says that he doesn't remember very much – as it was such a long time ago – but he remembers the moment he knew his dad wasn't going to be okay. His parents had taken him away for a few weeks in the summer to the Shadowhunter homeland of Idris, something like a "vacation" even though Shadowhunters don't necessarily like the term. One day his mum took him for a walk in the woods – she had a thing about nature and wild animals – and when they returned to the cottage his father was gone and nearly the whole bottom floor was in a state of disarray – much like Niall's flat the day he had returned after the night in the pub. It was clear that there had been a struggle of some kind – but it wasn't the struggle or his missing father that worried him as much as it was the fact that his watch was left forgotten on the counter in the kitchen. 

The thing is Harry's dad had never taken the watch off before, always said that aside from his mother and Harry that the watch was one of his favourite things in the world. And, somehow, he just knew that the fact that his father had taken off his watch and left it behind wasn't a good sign.

"Simon found my dad's body a couple days later but never said where or how," Harry says and his gaze looks far away. "My mother was never the same after that and Simon had looked after her – and promised to always look after me because he was good friends with my father. I guess that's why I respect his authority more than I respect others’, because he knew them both personally."  
He doesn’t talk about how his mother died – and Niall doesn’t ask.

Niall makes a bold move, then, and slips his hand into Harry's to squeeze his fingers. Harry looks at him and Niall smiles softly, pressing his shoulder gently against Harry's. The Shadowhunter looks sad and lost in thought and Niall thinks that Harry doesn't deserve to be sad.

Harry makes an even bolder move, leaning in as he lifts his free hand to Niall's face, tilting it gently and bringing him closer. He presses his forehead softly against Niall's, holding his breath for a moment as Niall lets out his own shaky one. Then he nudges his nose against Niall's and presses their lips together tentatively and shyly.

It's soft and gentle at first, as hesitant and clumsy as first kisses go. And then Harry deepens it and it’s fireworks behind their eyes and shivers throughout their entire bodies and desperation coursing through their veins. It's their first kiss and it's everything neither of them have ever felt before. 

X

The two return to the Institute all smiles and giggles and touches and kisses. They stumble across Simon, who while trying to remain stern and angry by scolding them for skipping training, struggles to hide a smile because he sees them holding hands behind their backs. Simon then sends them to bed, still pretending to be angry. 

Harry drags Niall up the stairs and ushers him towards the Irish boy's room. Upon entering the room, a gasp escapes Niall's lips when his gaze lands on a guitar sitting in a guitar stand next to his bedside table under the window. 

"What...what's this?" Niall stutters, confused. 

"It's yours."

Niall blinks. "How – why? Where did you-"

Harry grins. "I called someone I know who works at a shop and asked him to deliver his most prized guitar while we were out today. Since your other one got ruined in a demon fight, I wanted to get you a new one-"

"Harry, no," Niall says, shaking his head. "I can't – I can't accept this."

"Niall-"

"This is far too expensive and-"

"I want you to have it, Niall," Harry insists, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to the blond boy's pale lips before throwing himself onto the bed. "And cost is really no problem at all, okay? So don't even worry about it. Just accept it."

"But-"

"Please? Just...you said you miss playing. And I want you to be able to feel normal whenever you need to, so…" He trails off because he doesn't know how else to explain it and hopes that Niall will just accept it; hopes he’ll just understand.

Niall smiles, tilting his head to the side as he stares fondly at Harry, who makes himself comfortable on his bed. "You know when else I feel normal? With you – which is weird, I think, but true."

Harry stares at him silently for a minute, watching the way Niall picks up the guitar carefully and runs his fingers over the edges of the instrument. He handles it with so much care and so much love that it makes the butterflies in Harry’s stomach come to life. "Play something for me, Niall," he murmurs, almost pleads.

"What do you want me to play?"

"Anything," Harry shrugs. "I'll listen to anything you want to play."

And if they both fall asleep a little while later, wrapped up in blankets and clothing and limbs with the guitar nestled back in its stand and Niall's face tucked into Harry's neck, then so be it.  
X  
Harry wakes up to find himself wrapped completely in Niall, with the Irish boy's face tucked into his chest and their legs tangled together in the sheets. Niall looks so peaceful – so perfect, so angelic and beautiful and-

Panic begins to settle in his chest, making it hard for him to breathe so he untangles himself from Niall's limbs and sheets and slips out of the bed. He finds himself staring at Niall, watching the blond boy sleep – and realizes that this is how far he's fallen. He's watching the boy sleep like it's the most normal thing in the world – and it isn't, it shouldn’t be. 

He needs fresh air, some space and some time to think and maybe a long, hot shower – and to be far, far away from this – so he scrambles to push his feet back into his boots and then rushes out the door. And he forces himself not to look back. 

X

Niall wakes up alone, to cool sheets that smell like Harry but Harry is nowhere to be found. He smiles at the sight of the guitar sitting in its stand in the corner of the room and remembers the fond, beautiful look on Harry's face and in his eyes as he played the boy song after song after song before he was so tired his eyes kept closing and his fingers could no longer strum the strings.

He climbs out of bed, changes into fresh, clean clothes and then pads across the hall to Harry's bedroom. 

The room is void of any signs of Harry, proof that he hadn’t slept in his own bed last night, that he hasn’t even been in his room since the morning before. When Niall joins everyone else for breakfast, nobody else has seen Harry either. The look on Louis' face, however, makes Niall wonder if Louis knows more than he lets on and just isn’t saying anything.

X

"You're his best friend, you must know where he is," Niall says to Louis when he comes across the Shadowhunter in the training room later that afternoon and Harry still hasn't made an appearance in the Institute at all.

"I don't, Niall," Louis replies. "And even if I did, I'm not sure that I would tell you anyway; Harry only disappears when he wants to be alone."

Niall blinks, biting the inside of his cheek as he feels tears burning the insides of his eyes. "Alone…or away from me?"

Louis sighs. "Niall...he's just complicated."

"Complicated?" Niall snorts bitterly. "He's not complicated, he's... He finally told me what he wants from me and how he feels and now he's running away. He isn't complicated, Louis, he's a fucking coward is what he is."

"You don't even know where he is, Niall-"

"Exactly!" Niall shouts, ignoring the fact that his voice breaks as he's on the verge of tears. He's tired of feeling like this, like Harry doesn't care. Like Harry's just using him and Niall's just letting him. He’s tired of Harry always running away, of always chasing after him. “We fell asleep together last night and I woke up alone this morning and now he’s nowhere to be found.”

Louis frowns. "Niall, just – don't give up on him, okay?"

Niall doesn't know what do or say – or how he's supposed to react to that, because why the hell shouldn't he just give up? Harry has. Harry’s given up on Niall over and over and over. He shakes his sadly and places his dagger back against the weapons wall. Louis looks at him like he wants to say something – anything – but he doesn’t so Niall leaves him to train alone.

X

Harry raises his knuckles, rapping them harshly against the old, beaten wooden door before standing back to wait. He knows he shouldn't be here, he promised himself that the last time he was here would be the last time. He knows he should turn around and go back to the Institute and maybe just listen to Niall talk until the boy's Irish lull calms him down but he can't. He can't bring himself to move, wills the guilt sitting in his chest to go away. 

The door opens to reveal a woman with dark hair, cat-like eyes and a red dress made to hug all of her curves. "My, my. Harry Styles," she purrs, grinning like a Cheshire Cat. "Long time no see, baby."

"Caroline," he replies through clenched teeth. He really, really shouldn't be here. 

"To what do I owe this lovely pleasure this time?" she wonders, leaning herself against the open door. 

He ignores her, settling instead for a roll of his eyes. "Can I come in or not?"

"Depends. Are you here as a Shadowhunter or as a 'friend'?"

"Neither."

"I see," Caroline nods, stepping back to open the door wider – and Harry's glad he doesn't have to explain himself to her. "Very well, then, do come in."

X

Niall hates that he's sitting around the Institute waiting for Harry to come back, yet here he is: waiting. He's angry and he's hurt and he isn't quite sure how he's going to react when Harry walks through those front doors – whether he'll act out of anger or sadness or both – but either way it won't be good. He just needs to see Harry; needs to know if he has anything to wait for.

Louis comes rushing down the stairs, past Niall and towards the front doors. Niall leaps to his feet and stops the Shadowhunter with a hand on his bicep mere seconds before his hand curls around the door handle. "Harry called me, I have to go get him," Louis says hurriedly, taking one look at Niall’s face.

"I'm coming,” Niall decides.

"No, you'll stay here,” Louis tells him as he pulls the door open.

Niall follows him down the steps and across the driveway towards the car garage a few feet away. "I'm coming, Louis."

Louis sighs and stops walking to face Niall, pulling the blond boy to a stop as well as Niall tries to keep going. "I really, really don't think it's a good idea, Niall."

Niall's gaze narrows at the boy in front of him as he pulls his arm away harshly. "I won't let him continue to run away from me. If he won't see me here then I'm going to see him wherever he is," he says sternly.

Louis groans, presses his hands to his eyes and then rubs them over his face. "Fine, fine. Let's go."

X

They wind up at an old pub-like building just on the outskirts of London – except it isn't a regular pub. Niall knows it's a different kind of pub the second they walk in; he can smell the stale stench of beer and sweat and something else like demons, just not as strong. The energy in the room is palpable but it doesn’t make Niall’s blood hot the way it does when he’s in the presence of a demon.

Louis mumbles something about it being a Warlock Hole before he strides up to an ugly looking fellow behind the counter. "Is he upstairs?"

Harry must come here often, Niall thinks, if Louis doesn't even have to use his name.

"He is," the barkeep replies shortly, splaying both hands on the counter as he leans forward. He looks behind Louis at Niall, his gaze traveling up and down Niall's body in a way that makes him squirm. "Who's this, then? He feels like a-"

"He's none of your business," Louis growls, sounding vaguely defensive as he grabs Niall's sleeve and drags him towards a rickety staircase in the back corner of the bar. 

Niall follows Louis down a hallway at the top of the stairs to a room with an old, weathered red door. He looks around him, takes note of the other doors and how they’re brown instead of red and in even worse shape. There’s a window at the end of the hallway but the dust and grime on it only allow half of the day’s light through.  
Louis knocks and not even a moment later a beautiful, albeit older looking woman with cat-like eyes answers the door. She’s a warlock, Niall realizes, and her eyes are her tell.

"Oh, Harry didn't tell me we were going to have guests," the woman purrs, looking from Louis to Niall and then back to Louis. "Hello, Tomlinson, how goes the Shadowhunting? And who's your friend?"

Louis ignores her by brushing past her and into the room. The woman steps aside, then, and Niall slips past her.  
The room is hazy, full of so many stenches Niall isn't sure which one to focus on or how to identify it as he follows Louis. The door closes behind them and the sound makes Niall's skin crawl. He can feel the warlock behind him, watching him like she’s trying to figure him out and he’s about to turn around when he sees Harry. His stomach jumps into his throat, his heart skips several, painful beats.

Harry is lying sprawled across a bed in the middle of the room. His curls are damp and sticking to his forehead, his skin is slick with sweat and probably some other kind of liquid and his shirt is lying discarded on the floor next to him.

Niall feels sick to his stomach with something like disgust and betrayal and his eyes sting with tears he refuses to let fall as he watches Louis bend down to retrieve the shirt – and then his jacket off the back of a chair at a vanity a couple feet away from the bed, which Niall hadn't even noticed.  
Louis then shakes at Harry's shoulders and taps him gently on both cheeks. "Harry. Harold, c'mon. It's time to go."

"No," Harry moans, and that word alone slurs. Niall finds himself breathing a sigh of relief because at least he isn’t dead.

"Harry, we have to go."

"I can't, Lou. I messed up, I can't-"

Louis glances up at Niall, who looks (and feels) like he's going to be sick and then looks back at his friend. "Niall's here," he murmurs, petting Harry's hair. "He came to get you-"

Harry's eyes widen, then, and he stares at Louis in something like fear, gripping the front of Louis’ shirt in both hands. "No. No, you didn't bring him here – you didn't. Lou, you-"

"He wouldn't let me come without him, he was worried-"

"Nonono," Harry murmurs, looking at everything in the room except Louis and especially Niall. He pushes himself upright and that's when his gaze lands on Niall and his eyes fill up with fear and regret and guilt – and something else that Niall can't quite recognize. "Niall – Ni," he murmurs, pushing himself to stand up as Louis moves quickly to catch the curly-haired Shadowhunter before can face plant the ground. He seems drunk, swaying and stumbling over his feet as he moves towards Niall, who takes one step back before hitting a wall. "Niall, I – listen, Ni, 'm – this isn't-"

"I don't care, Harry, we have to go," Niall whispers, struggling to keep the tears at bay. His voice is shaking, thick with unshed tears. It’s only half true, that he doesn’t care. He just would rather have this conversation anywhere else.

Harry shakes his head, shrugs Louis off of him and practically throws himself at Niall who barely manages to catch either of them. "'m sorry," he murmurs, nuzzling his face into Niall's neck and hair. "Niall." He takes a deep breath, like he's trying to inhale Niall's scent and then his arms are all around Niall as he clings to the blond.

"C'mon, Harry," Louis says, trying to pull his friend away from the other boy.

"-want Niall," Harry slurs. "N-Niall, please..."

"Okay, Haz, let's go home, yeah?" Niall murmurs, circling one arm tight around Harry’s waist to hold him upright.

"Home," Harry murmurs, nodding against Niall's neck as he places a chaste kiss to his skin. "Home, Niall. Niall's home..."

Niall stumbles with Harry out of the room and lingers in the hallway whilst listening to the words Louis hisses at the warlock woman inside. 

"You need to stop-"

"He came to me, Tomlinson. Who am I to deny him what he needs?"

"You would be a decent friend, Caroline, which is what you claim to be, isn't it? You need to stop enabling him, you need to leave him alone – and that includes when he comes here. You need to turn him away."

"Just let him sleep it off. It'll be like nothing even happened."

X

Niall helps Louis bring Harry back to the curly-haired boy's room. He watches, silently and awkwardly as Louis tucks Harry into bed. Harry had moaned and whispered and called out Niall's name and clutched Niall's sweater and curled himself into Niall's shoulder the whole drive back before passing out just as they pulled in through the gates. 

And Niall had indulged him, had let him because Harry was drugged or high or drunk on something and he was being clingy and needy and desperate and he couldn't push the boy away. But now that they're here, now that Niall is looking at him clearly, he feels sick and nauseas and so, utterly hurt. He can't stand it. He can't even stand the sight of Harry.

He turns to leave, ignoring Louis' voice calling out to him. He manages to slip into his own room and get himself out of his own clothes – they smell like that place, like Harry – and into a fresh pair of boxers by the time Louis barges in.

"Niall, just – I can explain-"

"If anybody owes me an explanation it's him, Louis, not you," Niall mutters, cutting him short.

"I know, but-"

"No, you know what, I don't care – as far as I'm concerned he can fuck whoever he wants to. I'm done."

Louis shakes his head. "He wasn't – he wouldn't do that-"

Niall whirls around to face him, looking like a mixture of angry and hurt and sick. "How do you know that? How the fuck would you know what he did?"

"Because I know him!" Louis shouts, sounding desperate for Niall to understand. "And I thought you weren't going to give up on him."

"Yeah, well, that was before he left me to go see someone else and get wasted," Niall spits bitterly. "He's taken off plenty of times and I could deal with that, but this time-“ he cuts himself off, eyes wide. “Oh my God." His chest tightens as realization hits him hard, nearly wiping his feet out from under him. "He – that's where he would go, isn't it? Every time he disappeared before, that's where he would go."

"If you would just let me explain-"

"What's there to explain, Louis?! I was there-"

"He isn't as strong as you think he is!" Louis bellows. This time his voice is strong and angry and defensive rather than desperate. 

Niall blinks. "Okay."

"I mean, yeah, physically speaking he's one of the strongest Shadowhunters out there, but emotionally he's just...he has issues," Louis starts, calmer this time as Niall sits down on the bed to listen. He thinks he might fall over otherwise. "Relationship issues, commitment issues – you name it. He just, he likes you so much that it scares him and he literally can't function because of it and he freaks out and he just needs to disappear sometimes to figure everything out in his head and his heart."

"And that's where he goes? To that place? To her?"

"She's a warlock-"

"Yeah, I got that."

"They, uh, they kind of go way back to when his mum died," Louis reveals, though he knows he shouldn't because it isn't his place. Harry is going to want to kill him when he finds out. "He was in a really bad place for a really long time and he met her at a mundane pub and they kind of, well, you know." Niall shakes his head sadly as he turns to look away and Louis follows so he's still in Niall's view. "But that's all it was; just sex. That's it. And maybe some talking – but only because even though she's only 30 in mundane years she's, like, 400 years old or something stupid, so she's all-worldly and crap. And, I mean, yeah, he'd get wasted a lot and then he really started to like her warlock-made potion-y thing – which is like alcohol times a thousand in terms of side effects – and wrong as it was it made him feel better.

"He stopped seeing her about six months before you turned up and flipped everything about again."

Niall’s gaze on Louis hardens. "So it's my fault, is that-"

"No, no, it's not your fault," Louis assures him. "He just... He gets frustrated and he gets scared and he gets overwhelmed and he only goes because it he knows that her magic alcohol makes him feel better, helps him escape for a bit."

Niall remains silent. 

Louis sighs. "I'm not trying to make excuses, because he definitely shouldn't have just left you the way he did and he definitely shouldn't even go there to begin with – and believe me, I've told him – but it's just...it's just him. You know? It's just how he handles things because it's the only way he knows how."

Niall shakes his head; he's confused and he's hurt and he doesn't even know what to think right now. Nor does he know how to feel. "You should go-"

The door flies open, then, and Liam is standing in the doorway with a wild look on his face and fear in his eyes. "God, Niall, finally."

"What? What's wrong? Is it-" he cuts himself off because it couldn't be Harry, could it? They just got home and his room is right across the hall. Surely they would’ve heard something.

Liam blinks and his Adam's apple bobs nervously in his throat. "It's your parents..."

Niall's eyes widen as he springs to his feet. "What? What – Liam, tell me."

"They were attacked by demons."

X

Niall throws the doors open and bursts into the library, Louis and Liam on his heels, to see Simon, Zayn and Perrie gathered around Simon's desk. "What the hell happened – I thought they were under surveillance, you said you would protect them!" he growls, marching across the room towards them. 

Simon steps forward. "Niall-"

"Somebody needs to tell me what the hell is going on!"

"They're fine, Niall. They're okay," Simon assures him. "There was an attack at the house but your parents managed to fight them off. They’re at the Institute in Mullingar-"

"What – the Institute?" Niall asks, looking confused. "B-but they're mundanes."

"Yes."

"Why are they-"

"Mundanes who have come in contact with demons or any other aspect of the Shadowhunter world must be taken to the closest Institute until the Clave decides what to do with them."

Niall's eyes widen. "What to do with them? What-"

"Nothing bad will happen to your parents, Niall," Simon assures him calmly.

"I want to see them."

"Niall, there's-"

"You can't stop me from seeing them, they're my parents," Niall snaps. 

"There's more, Niall."

Niall blinks. "W-what is it?"

Simon pauses for a moment and then - "They had a serif blade. Which means-"

"Either they're exiled Shadowhunters or a Shadowhunter must have given it to them," Niall finishes, looking confused and thoughtful. 

"Which is what the Mullingar Institute is trying to figure out."

"Which means they know about me."

Simon nods. "Probably. Yes."

"I...I need to go. I have to go." Niall starts to back out of the room only to have Liam stop him. His mind is an absolute mess and he doesn’t even know where he’s trying to go or how he’s going to get to Mullingar on such short notice but-

"Mate, you need to think for a second. You need some clothes, first of all," Liam says.

Niall nods frantically. "And a plane ticket-"

"You're not taking a plane, Niall," Louis scoffs. "There are such things as portals, you know."

"Right. How could I have forgotten?" Niall wonders sarcastically, dryly. 

"Liam, Zayn, you'll go with Niall," Simon says. "Go pack a bag; I'll work on the portal."

Niall glances back at Louis as he walks towards the door with Zayn and Liam – and Louis nods once; a silent understanding that he will stay with Harry, despite how angry Niall is with the curly-haired Shadowhunter. And if part of him wishes Harry were coming with him, he refuses to acknowledge it.

X

Harry wakes up slowly, groggily. His head is pounding and the light splashing into his room from the window doesn’t help. He rolls onto his side and buries his face into his pillow. The events of last night come back to him just as slowly; going to see Caroline, drinking and confiding in Caroline, feeling fuzzy and numb all over, Louis coming to get him and then Niall-

Niall. 

He throws the covers off his body and takes off across the hall into Niall's room, not even caring that the only clothing he has on are a pair of boxers. The room is empty and Niall's bed looks like it hasn't been slept in all night. He races back out of the room without any hesitation just as Louis comes out of his own. "Louis – Lou, where's Niall?"

"He's gone, mate."

Harry's breath catches in his throat as panic begins to settle in and his thoughts get jumbled in his head. "Wha-gone? What? Gone where? You let him – how could you let him leave?"

"Gee, I dunno, the same way I let you leave all the time?"

Harry glares hard at him. "Lou."

Louis rolls his eyes. "Would you relax? He went to see his parents."

"Oh."

"Oh?” Louis echoes, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. “That's it? Aren't you gonna ask why?"

Harry shrugs. "He misses them. And his mum's been texting him like mad lately, so I just assumed-"

"That's your problem then, isn't it? You just assume."

Harry blinks, taken aback by Louis' rudeness. Sure, the bloke can be sassy at times but almost never with Harry. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Because he didn't just leave because he misses them, he left because his parents were attacked by bloody demons last night – which, by the way, you would know if you weren't so bloody out of it last night,” Louis snaps angrily.

Harry's eyes widen in shock. Dread and guilt fills his heart – along with worry and uneasiness. "What – are they okay? How did they – I thought they were under surveillance-"

"They were. The Clave is investigating and Niall is probably wowing Shadowhunters in the Mullingar Institute with his weird demon/angel/mundane blood as we speak."

"They're okay, though?" Harry presses worriedly.

"They're fine. In fact, it turns out they could already know all about Niall being a weirdo seeing as they had a serif blade on them and used it to kill the demons that attacked them."

"And Niall? Is he – I mean he's okay too, right?"

"I guess so," Louis shrugs. "Liam and Zayn left with him through a portal just after we got home last night."

"Oh."

"He'll be fine, Harry," Louis assures him with a pat on the back. "He'll go see his parents, maybe spend a few days and then he'll come back and we'll figure out what the hell is going on with Niall and these demons."

"I need to go – I need to get to Mullingar," Harry mutters as he turns to go back into his room to pack-

"No, Harry, you shouldn't."

"Why not? I know Liam and Zayn are with him but they-"

"You need to leave him alone for a while, Haz," Louis tells him softly. He doesn’t sound angry anymore, just disappointed. "He's not very happy with you right now and I really don't think going to Ireland while he's worrying over his parents is going to help. Just give him some space."

"But-"

"You forced him to give you some space every time you ran away from him and went to Caroline. The least you can do is give him some space to spend time with his family."

Harry groans inwardly because, fuck, Louis' right. The last thing Niall needs to be worrying about while he's worrying about his parents is everything that happened with them last night. 

X

Despite a few bumps and bruises and a couple minor scratches, both Bobby and Maura Horan are completely fine. They have their own room in the Mullingar Institute and that's Niall's first destination the minute he arrives with Liam and Zayn. 

His mother cries when she sees him and holds him close, forcing Niall to bend at the waist to make up for her lack in height. And his father brings him in for a quick, tight hug around his shoulders before ruffling his hair and pulling back. 

They talk about what happened back at their family home and Zayn and Liam – after having been introduced – listen intently as well. Bobby talks about how two demons overtook two Shadowhunters that were meant to protect him and then broke into the house to attack them as well and that's pretty well when he remembered the serif blade hidden in a drawer in the bedroom. 

When Niall asks where the serif blade came from Maura reveals that they've, in fact, known all along; that Niall's biological mother gave it to them for protection – for Niall. They explain that his biological mother was nothing more than a teenage girl who got herself tangled up with demons and angels – although the details of how remain unknown to this day – and had given Niall away for his own protection; to hide him. She had told them everything she knew about the Shadowhunter world and told them of the Mullingar Institute if trouble ever arose. 

His parents had taken him in knowingly and his biological mother was killed a couple days later.  
They've been protecting him ever since, keeping him hidden from the Shadowhunter world and trying to keep the Shadowhunter world hidden from Niall. 

Niall wonders if he should be mad at them for keeping such a huge, important secret from him – but then he remembers how scared and confused he'd felt when he found out about himself and he can't even begin to imagine being in their positions and feeling responsible for keeping a baby they loved more than anything safe from a world that could try to harm him. 

Once everything is said and done, Zayn, Liam and Bobby leave the bedroom to check in with the other Irish Shadowhunters, leaving Niall alone with his mother. And now that all that's sorted out, that he knows the whole truth – and after he watches Zayn and Liam walk away – he's reminded of Harry and how Harry isn't here. And then he's reminded of why Harry isn't here and-

"What's troubling you, love?" Maura asks in that worried, motherly tone of hers as she rubs at Niall's back through his Jumper. "And don't even think about lying because I know there's something else other than this. What is it?"

Niall sighs and realizes just how much he kind of misses his mum. And even though the Harry issue kind of pales in comparison to everything else, he appreciates that she cares enough to ask. And he also wants nothing more than to take advantage of this moment, to be a regular boy talking to his mom about another a boy. To pretend like his parents didn’t just tell him they got attacked by demons because they were trying to find him. "There's just...this boy," he murmurs, fumbling with his fingers in his lap as he stares down at the floor.

"Ah. Boy trouble."

"He's a Shadowhunter, the one who kind of...accidentally introduced me to this world, I guess you could say. He's really good at what he does, he's insanely gorgeous and he's incredibly complicated."

"How so?"

Niall sighs. "It's like he doesn't know what he wants from me. Like, one minute he wants me and the next he can't stand to be around me so he runs away. His best friend says it's because he has all kinds of emotional attachment issues and I get that – I do – I just...it's so hard, mum. It's like he's constantly running away and I'm constantly chasing after him and I don't...I don't know if I can continue to do it. I don't know if it's worth it."

"People are always worth it, Ni," she whispers, carding a hand through his hair like she used to do when he was little. "Even the complicated ones."

X

Harry is in the training room days later when Louis pokes his head in and announces that Niall's back and then he's racing through the Institute, training forgotten, to get to the dining hall as fast as he can. He sees Niall, in all his beauty and glory; his blond hair and blue eyes and cuddly frame and he wants nothing more to pull the Irish boy into his arms and never let go. 

Niall looks at him but doesn't acknowledge him. Instead, he turns his attention to everyone else who's watching him, waiting. He goes on to tell everyone about the attack on his parents, how his father did, indeed, have a serif blade and used it to kill the demons and, perhaps more surprising of all, how they went directly to the Mullingar Institute themselves.

He explains his biological mother being just a scared, helpless teenager and how she had gotten herself into trouble with a demon and an angel but how still, to this day, nobody knows how he has both demon and angel blood in his veins.

Once everything sinks in, Simon reveals that while Niall was gone he had spoken with the Clave and that they believe the demons want something from Niall and attacked his parents as a way of getting to him and that, right now, the safest place for Niall to be is still at the Institute. "It is up to you, of course, at which Institute you'd like to stay," Simon adds. 

Niall blinks, his brow furrowing in confusion. "I have a choice?"

"Of course you do. Institutes are sanctuaries; they provide safety to Shadowhunters all over the world. It doesn't matter where you are or where you come from, as long as you're a Shadowhunter an Institute's door is always open."

"So I could go back to Ireland?"

"Yes," Simon nods. "Should you want to, you can go back to Ireland. Do you want to?"

Harry's heart jumps into his throat at the thought of Niall leaving for good and his mouth opens as if to say something – anything, but then Niall speaks.

"Can I think about it?"

"Of course," Simon nods, smiling warmly. "And if you do choose to go back to Ireland we," he says, gesturing to the Shadowhunters gathered around them, "will continue to help figure out what it is the demons want with you. You needn’t worry."

+

Harry catches up to Niall in the corridor just outside Niall's room, just before Niall gets a chance to disappear inside it.

"Niall – Niall, wait!" He grasps at Niall's sleeve and Niall pulls his arm away as he turns to face Harry. He looks tired and impatient and just...like he would rather be anywhere else than where he is. Harry blinks, letting his hand fall back to his side. "H-how are you doing? Are you okay?"

Niall sighs, looking away. "I'm tired, Harry."

"I – I mean, yeah, a lot's happened over the last few days so of course you're tired," Harry agrees. 

"Yeah, so if you don't mind I'm just gonna go lay down-"

Harry leaps forward instinctively, reaching once more for Niall's arm – and this time it's like Niall's too tired to pull away so Harry's fingers remain clasped around the sleeve of Niall's sweater. "Wait, Niall, I just... Are you okay?"

Niall rolls his eyes. "I'm fine. Just tired."

"But it's a lot to take in, everything with your parents and if – I mean, I'm here if you want to talk about it," Harry says softly, hoping Niall knows that he means it. He's desperate, grasping for straws in hopes that maybe Niall isn't all that mad at him. 

"I don't," Niall snaps. "At least not with you." Niall turns to walk away a third time but Harry stops him once more. 

"N-Niall-"

"What, Harry? What do you want?" The blond boy whirls around, ripping his arm out of Harry's grasp for the last time. His glare is harsh and his voice is harsher, laced with venom and pure anger. 

Harry blinks, taken aback by the harshness in Niall's tone. "I was hoping we could talk," he murmurs. "You know, about us."

"That's the last thing I want to talk about."

"I – I know," Harry stutters, sounding small. "But I also know you're mad at me and-"

"Mad doesn't even begin to describe how I feel," Niall scoffs.

"Okay, then we should talk about it, yeah? We should-"

"I don't want to talk about it, Harry!" Niall shouts, pushing his hands through his hair roughly before letting them drop to his sides. "I don't want to talk about the fact that when I fell asleep that night I expected you to still be there in the morning. I don't want to talk about how I woke up alone and confused and how you were nowhere to be seen. I don't want to talk about how you went to a fucking warlock pub to see a fucking warlock woman to get some of her magical-fucking-potion-shit – and I don't want to talk about how when Lou and I got there you were half naked and couldn't even form a complete sentence."

Harry blinks as he stares silently at Niall, watching as the blond boy takes a step back and shakes his head and looks at everything in the corridor except Harry. It's like Niall can't get far enough away from him, can't put as much space between them as he wants to – needs to. The thought that Niall doesn't want to be near him – physically or otherwise – is nauseating. 

"Nor do I want to talk about the fact that when I found out my parents got attacked by demons you weren't there because you were passed out," Niall murmurs, choking back tears. 

Harry sniffs back his own tears, then. He takes a step towards Niall only to freeze when Niall takes another step back and stumbles into the wall. "I'm – Niall, I'm sorry," he stutters, his voice sounding desperate. "I-I wish I had been, you have no idea how badly I wish I had been."

Niall closes his eyes. "Don't, Harry."

"No, you're right – you're absolutely right. But I tried, Niall, I wanted to go to Ireland when I found out – I was gonna make another portal – but Louis practically forbid me-"

"Just stop, Harry! It doesn't matter, alright? What matters is that I needed you and you weren't there! What matters is that you made me believe in you – you made me want you and you just left me hanging about yet again! All because you needed Caroline and you needed your fix and you didn't care about anybody but yourself!"

Harry looks down sheepishly, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. "Niall, I-"

"I just can't, Harry," Niall whispers brokenly. "And I'm going to bed so just...leave me alone."

Harry can't bring himself to look up as he hears Niall open and close his door. He can't bring himself to watch Niall shut him out, literally and figuratively, so he stares at the floor at his feet until he hears the lock click into place. 

X

Harry stumbles into Louis' room to find the feathery-haired boy sprawled across his bed reading a book that Harry has never heard of. Louis puts the book down when he sees Harry's wet, red-rimmed eyes and blotchy cheeks and cocks his head to tell him to come in, which Harry does gracefully, crawling onto Louis' bed as his best friend moves to make room. 

"I'm such an idiot," Harry murmurs, curling into Louis' side.

"Yes, you are," Louis agrees, petting Harry's hair.

"I really fucked up, Lou."

"Yes, you did."

"Why did you bring him? You knew I was there, why'd you let him come with you?" 

Louis sighs softly, pushing his fingers through Harry’s hair. "He was worried, Harry. Besides, we both know he would've followed me anyway."

Harry shakes his head, blinking back tears as he rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. "He was never supposed to know about that; he never should've seen that – seen her. And now he hates me."

"He doesn't hate you. If he hated you he wouldn't be as hurt as he is."

Harry pauses, swallowing back tears. "Did I just lose him?"

Louis shakes his head. "No-"

"But he won't talk to me – he can barely even look at me, Lou!" Harry exclaims, pushing himself up into his elbow to face his best friend. 

Louis sighs. "I already told you, you need to give him some time-"

"Time to what, though? What does he need to time to do? Why does he-"

"Probably for about the same reasons you needed time."

Harry's brows knit together in thought. "What if he decides he doesn't want me anymore? What if I've ruined any chance I had at being with him?"

Louis shrugs. "Then chances are he'll go back to Ireland and you'll never have to see him again."

"'s not funny," Harry scowls. 

"Harry, I think, in all seriousness, he would've stayed in Ireland if he wasn't still interested. He's closer to you than to anybody here, so why would he come back for anyone else if he didn't have to? Besides, Liam said the first thing Niall did when they came back through the portal was look around and you and I were the only ones not there. And I'm pretty sure he wasn't looking for me."

Harry nods, rolling onto his side away from Louis. He doesn't want to be alone right now but he doesn't want to be touched or held either and although he craves the warmth and comfort of Niall's bed and Niall's body, Louis' bed is the next best thing. Louis falls asleep in no time, snoring into his pillow and even though Harry feels exhausted, emotionally and physically, he can't seem to fall asleep because his mind is racing with thoughts of Niall and hoping, desperately, that Louis is right about everything. 

X

Harry hasn't talked to Niall in two days – has barely seen him outside of passing him in the corridors or on their way in and out of the training room – and it already feels like hell. He hates not being able to talk to Niall, hates that Niall bows his head or looks away when Harry is in the room. Hates that everything is so awkward and off between them, because this isn't how it's supposed to be. Not anymore.

He comes across Niall in the training room on the morning of the third day just as Niall is getting ready to leave and he can't stand it; can't bare the tension and the awkwardness and the pitiful feeling in the bottom of his stomach or the swift beating of his heart, like it's trying to beat out of his chest and across the room into Niall's. So instead of merely nodding his head and turning away so Niall can pass without having to speak to him, Harry walks towards him, forcing one foot in front of the other.

"Hey, Niall."

Niall pauses and then looks back at him. "Hey."

Harry lingers awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. "H-how are you?"

"Good – fine," Niall replies shortly. 

"How are your parents?"

Niall smirks, despite himself. "They're kind of loving the Mullingar Institute, to be honest. I have half a mind to ask Simon if they can come here."

Harry smiles softly. "You should."

"Nah, I don't think they could ever leave Ireland. And I don't want to impose on Simon-"

"It's not imposing, Niall. There are plenty of empty rooms they can have and Simon really wouldn't mind. He'd probably like having a couple adults his own age around anyway."

Niall stares at him, looking thoughtful for a moment before nodding his head and looking away again. "I'll think about it, then."

Harry nods and then takes a deep, calming breath for what he's about to say next. "Are you – do you want to do something later? Um, with me?" he asks nervously.

Niall blinks. "I, uh, I have plans later. With Justin."

"Oh." He wants to remind Niall that he shouldn't go outside alone but he doesn't want to be pushy. 

"And I know I shouldn't go out without protection, or whatever, but I already cleared it with Simon and he said it was okay."

"Oh. Okay." He turns away, then, and grabs a sword off the weapons wall as Niall walks towards the exit.

"Harry?"

He turns, eyes wide and hopeful. "Yeah?"

"We'll talk soon, yeah?"

The corners of Harry's lips twitch into a small smile, the previous morbid uneasiness in his stomach replaced by fluttering butterflies. "Yeah."

X

Harry approaches Simon in the library after he's done in the training room – and after Niall's left – about offering for Niall's parents to stay in the London Institute. "I think it would be good for him to have his parents around, you know?"

"I agree, yeah, you're right," Simon says, folding his arms across the top of his desk. "Is this something he wants, has he asked you about it?"

"He just said that they really like the Institute in Mullingar and that he's been thinking about asking you but he doesn't want to impose."

"Nonsense," Simon scoffs. "I'll talk to him about it tomorrow."

Harry nods and shifts feet as he clears his throat to change the subject. "Can I ask why you're letting him go out alone today?"

Simon quirks an eyebrow. "Would you prefer I hold him here against his will?"

"If it means keeping him safe..." Harry mutters, trailing off. He knows it would be wrong, like imprisonment, but it would ensure Niall's safety and isn't that more important?

"We can't keep him holed up here like a prisoner, Harry. He's allowed to go out and do things. If the situation was reversed and you were in Niall's position, how would you feel?"

Despite himself, Harry nods understandingly. 

"We've taken all the precautions we can in terms of keeping him safe but we can't forbid him from being a mundane considering he lived 22 years knowing nothing else," Simon explains. "You remember what happened when we tried to isolate him?

"At least we know where he is and who he's with and I told him that if he feels any kind of demon energy, no matter how faint or distant, to contact me," he continues. "He'll be fine, Harry."

Harry nods again, swallowing the nervousness in his throat as he turns to leave. 

X

Niall agrees to meet Justin at a cafe a few blocks away from the Institute so that's where he goes. Justin is already there, leaning against the wall outside with two paper cups. He offers one to Niall – Niall's favourite latte, of course – and then starts leading Niall in the direction of his flat.

Justin is like a breath of fresh air for Niall. He's a reminder of the mundane things Niall used to do – and can still do, given the time. He's so chill and down-to-earth and casual and hanging out with him is just easy. It's easier than hanging out with his old friends in London because he doesn't have to explain why he quit his job or why he left his flat or where he's living now because Justin hadn't known him then. Justin doesn’t require an explanation.

Hanging out with Justin, out in the open and so casual, is so different from being in the Institute – from being with Harry. Yeah, he enjoys spending alone time with Harry, might even fancy himself a little bit in love with the stubborn Shadowhunter despite recent events, but it's a helluva lot harder trying to figure out all of Harry's little puzzle pieces than just hanging out casually with Justin. 

So when Justin fancies a stroll around the neighbourhood or in the park or spending a night playing Xbox back at his flat, Niall will do so gladly.

X

Harry sits next to Louis in the dining hall for dinner, his leg bopping up and down nervously as he waits – and waits and waits – for Niall to get back. His gaze hardly leaves the door because he keeps expecting Niall to come through. But he doesn't.  
Louis scolds him, presses his hand down on Harry's knee to make it stop moving.

He isn't even all that hungry, but he eats anyway because Louis keeps watching him. 

Niall hasn't returned by the time Harry finishes eating and follows Louis out of the dining hall and ignores the jealousy bubbling in his chest at the thought of Niall spending the night with Justin.

X

Harry spends the evening in his bedroom with the door open so he has a clear view of the corridor along with Niall's own bedroom door. 

It's going on midnight when he hears movement and instinctively springs off the bed – before he can even think to stop himself – and skids to a stop in the corridor only to come face-to-face with Zayn instead of Niall. 

"Oh."

Zayn smirks. "Yeah, nice to see you too, mate."

"Sorry," Harry apologizes sheepishly. "I just – I thought you were Niall. He wasn't at dinner and I just... I dunno, nevermind."

"I thought he was hanging out with Justin today?"

"He was, yeah," Harry mutters.

"Maybe he decided to spend the night."

Harry's chest tightens at the possibility of Niall having to sleep in the same bed as someone other than himself. "Yeah, maybe," he mutters, lips pulled into a tight smile.

Zayn shrugs and claps Harry on the back. "Knowing him he got wasted off that Irish beer he loves and didn't bother leaving."

"Yeah, maybe."

Zayn looks thoughtful for a minute. "You really don't like him hanging out with Justin, do you?"

Harry shrugs. 

"He isn't interested in Justin. I asked him."

The curly-haired boy blinks, taken aback. "Y-you did?"

"Course," Zayn grins. "There's only one person he's interested in and I think we both know who that is."

Harry blushes, bowing his head to hide the tint on his cheeks as he ducks back into his room, hovering in the doorway. "Anyway, you're probably right. The Irish is probably just too drunk to leave."

"Text him; you know he's not against drunk texting." Zayn winks and pats Harry once more on the shoulder once more before he continues on his way down the hall.

After parting ways and closing his bedroom door behind him, Harry finds Niall's name in his messages and opens it as he flops back onto his bed.

-Hey, Niall. Could you text me, maybe?  
-It's just that you're not back yet and I just want to know if you're spending the night at Justin's?  
-I hope you’re having fun.

X

There's still no sign – or text message – from Niall the next morning and Harry really begins to worry. The first thing he does is force Louis out of bed to go in search of Simon, whose in the kitchen helping Mary prepare breakfast and the words come tumbling out of Harry's mouth before he can even think them.

"You're worried," Simon replies, allowing Mary to take over where he’d been whisking eggs in a large metal bowl.

"Yes, I'm worried. He might be a little bit mad at me but he would still answer me."

"And you want to do what, exactly?"

"I want to go look for him!" Harry shouts, pushing his hands through his hair in frustration. "Look, I know it just seems like I'm jealous but that's not – it isn't about that. I just have a really bad feeling and the fact that he hasn't even read the messages I sent him makes it even worse. He wouldn't ignore me like that."

Simon contemplates him before he eventually agrees to let Harry and Louis go out to find him. 

Harry leaps into action, then, rushing out of the library and towards the front door before Louis stops him, reminding him that they both still have to get dressed. 

X

Niall had mentioned once, in passing, what the outside of Justin’s building looks like and that’s what Harry uses to find it. There's no answer at Justin's buzzer at the front door of the building so Louis breaks them inside through a side door. Harry takes the stairs two at a time to the third floor, Louis following quickly behind, because he doesn't have the patience to wait for the elevator. Having done this type of thing plenty of times before, the two of them have a thoughtless synchronism in their movements. 

To Harry’s dismay, there's no answer at Justin's door either so he shoulders the door open, not even caring that he might have to throw money over to Justin for repairs. The door flies open and slams hard against the wall with a loud bang and Harry freezes in the doorway. 

The flat is in a state of disarray, looking very much like Niall's did all those months ago after a demon had trashed the place. Panic seeps deep into Harry's bones and crawls over his skin as he shouts out Niall's name and starts racing around the small flat in search of the missing Irish boy whilst Louis pulls out his phone to call Simon.

Neither Justin nor Niall are anywhere to be found and not only is Harry beginning to panic but he's starting to feel afraid. He isn’t used to feeling afraid, not like this. His hands are shaking and his stomach is twisting and part of him feels like he's going pass out. And that's when he sees it, the black iPhone sitting perfectly on the counter in the kitchen among broken glass and some crumbs. He leaps for it and taps the home button, which lights up the screen to reveal all three of Harry's unread text messages – and he knows.

Louis walks in, then, just as he hangs up his own phone. "What's that?" he asks, gesturing to the phone in Harry's hand. 

"N-Niall's definitely in trouble."

"Well, yeah, mate, look around-"

"No, I mean, he's in trouble, Lou. I – this is his phone." He holds up the iPhone, the brightened screen facing the other Shadowhunter. 

Louis shrugs "So? Maybe it just fell in the struggle, which I guess-"

"No, his phone never leaves his side – he'd never just drop it. This is a sign, Lou. From Niall to me, this is a sign."

Louis' brows knit together in utter confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Harry clutches the phone in his and, dropping his arm to his side. "I told him something about my dad that I've never told anyone, not even you," Harry starts, ignoring the way Louis' eyes narrow in even more confusion and a little bit of hurt. "It was about his watch and how I knew something was wrong before I even knew what was wrong because my dad left his watch on the kitchen counter as a sign when he disappeared. Niall knew I would come looking for him and he knew I would find this and he knew I would know what it means."

Louis eyes widen, then, in recognition. "It means he's in trouble."

Harry nods, swallowing around the impossibly large lump in his throat. "It means it has something to do with demons."  
X  
Harry doesn't recall Simon, Zayn or Liam showing up at Justin's flat to talk and then investigate because everything that happens after he finds Niall's phone in the kitchen is kind of a blur. It's like he's in a sort of trance, going through the motions and talking without even thinking about what he's saying. It's like he's there but he isn't a really there. 

"How are we supposed to know where to look if we don't even know where to start?" Louis is asking when Harry zones back in. 

"I think we should hit all the known demon hang-outs," Liam says from where he's leaning against the side of the fridge. 

"Yeah, torture some of the demons into telling us what they know," Zayn agrees. 

Harry shakes his head. "We should start here; look around for any clues or-"

"There's nothing here but a bunch of Justin's crap, Harry," Louis says.

"Maybe we haven't looked hard enough."

Louis sighs, "Harry, if the demon broke in and attacked them then-"

"I'm not sure the demon had to break in."

Everyone looks at him expectantly. And then Louis scoffs and shakes his head. "Harry, no. You're not seriously suggesting that Justin had anything to do with it – he's a mundane for goodness sake!"

"Demons have used mundanes to their advantage before," Harry before. 

"Niall and Justin are friends, Harry. Put your jealousy aside and-"

"It has nothing to do with jealousy," Harry snaps. "Something is off about Justin, I don't trust him and I never have."

"Harry-" Liam tries to say, but Harry ignores him and keeps going.

"What are the odds that he just shows up the way he did, huh? In a fucking abandoned building full of demon energy? And then all of a sudden he's calling Niall to hang out all over London – all of this just weeks after we find out that Niall isn't actually a mundane. It doesn't sit right with me and now this; Niall comes to hang out with Justin days after his parents get attacked by demons and now he's missing? Explain to me, if you still doubt me, why Justin seems to be present every time a demon is present, then."

Louis opens his mouth to respond and then closes it, having nothing to say, whilst Liam and Zayn look on thoughtfully.

Simon clears his throat, then. "Looking around won't hurt. Let’s search the flat top to bottom, see what we find."

Harry nods and takes off to start looking around before anyone else happens to move. 

X

Harry's searching a bookshelf in the living room, running his fingers over the spines of the books – old and new – and hating himself for thinking that Justin has quite good taste in reading material when his finger grazes something stuffed between two books that is, decidedly, not a book. Upon further inspection he realizes it's a folder of some sort. He pulls it out from between the two books and opens it almost desperately quick with shaky hands. 

His gaze falls upon a page with a single word written in black ink – Abaddon – above a messily scribbled drawing of what he knows is a demon. It's one of the many demons he's seen in one of the many books in the library at the Institute, those ones drawn by a Shadowhunter's own hand. His stomach twists and the heavy feeling of dread and fear hit him square in the chest. 

He doesn't even have to look at the other pages tucked behind the first, nor does he want to. And he's saved from doing so when Simon's voice calls him from inside the bedroom. Folder in hand he finds his way through the debris strewn across the flat and into the bedroom where Simon, Liam and Zayn are standing surrounding Louis, who's holding a small rectangular box in his hands. 

Louis tears his gaze away from the inside of the box and looks across the room at Harry – and he knows he doesn't have to say it in order to get the point across, knows that Harry will understand the apology and the unsaid "I was wrong" in his eyes.

Harry marches across the room, the folder still clutched in his hand. Louis holds the box out to him and Harry hesitates for a moment before peering inside – and what he sees is enough to make his legs weak and make him feel sick to his stomach. Inside the box are photographs upon photographs of Niall.

Niall walking down the street. Niall in front of his old apartment building. Niall during one of his morning runs. It's all NiallNiallNiall and it makes Harry’s skin crawl.  
Simon is talking about Justin and how the demons have obviously been using the mundane to lure Niall in but Harry’s attention is focused on one picture in particular of Niall the morning after the incident in bar. He’s wearing that black leather jacket and his favourite white Supras and his hair is a right mess.  
And suddenly Harry is back in that bathroom, surrounded by splintered wood and staring at the beautiful blond boy with the scared, bright blue eyes. He thinks about how scared Niall probably is now, how betrayed he probably feels, how stupid he probably thinks he is – and it's enough to make Harry need to sit down because his legs are threatening to give way. 

Right now he isn't a Shadowhunter. Right now he's just a boy whose friend – whose would-be (should-be) boyfriend – is missing and he just wants him back. Right now he's just scared and all he wants is Niall.

"What's in your hand?" Liam asks, reaching for the folder, which Harry lets slip through his fingers. 

A series of curses are muttered as the other four examine the first page. 

"How the bloody hell does this happen?" Louis demands, albeit not at all seriously because he knows he won't get an answer – at least not yet. "How does a mundane get involved with demons? And how the fuck are we supposed to find this Abaddon shithead?"

"Like I said, we should go to a couple demon hot spots-" Liam starts only to be cut short by Harry's numb voice. 

"I know someone who can help. She's very knowledgeable on all things demon."

Louis groans loudly, dramatically. 

"Louis, Harry, while you guys go see Caroline and the three of us will head back to the Institute and get the others to help find all we can on this Abaddon," Simon says. "Should Caroline be able to help, you are to come straight back to the Institute – which means no rescue missions on your own. Clear?" he asks them both, though his gaze is fixed on Harry.

"Crystal," Harry mutters, already making his way out of the bedroom and through the flat whilst Louis bids goodbye and has to jog to keep up with him. 

X

"Of all the warlocks, Harry, really," Louis mutters as the get closer and closer to the warlock pub. Quite frankly, he thinks, this is far too many times he's been here in this many days.

"She's the only one I trust," Harry replies. 

Louis' quiet for a moment and then he clears his throat. "Can I ask you something?"

"You're going to regardless, so go ahead."

"Why did you go to her?" Louis asks and the words are out of his mouth before Harry even finishes speaking. "I thought you asking Niall out was you finally admitting your feelings for him."

"Admitting my feelings and realizing just how deep they run are two completely different things to me and it freaked me out," Harry replies, pushing the front door to the pub in and gesturing for Louis to go ahead of him. 

"What did?"

"Being with him, waking up the next morning with him," Harry admits, adding a shrug to his shoulders as he begins to climb the staircase at the back of the building, following behind Louis. "I've never spent the night with anybody without there being sex involved and even then I would leave as early and quickly as possible without causing a scene. And then there was Niall and I just wanted to stay there all day long, just me and Niall in his bed and, I dunno, it freaked me out. I just had to get away from him."

As if on cue the pair reach Caroline's door and Harry knocks hard against the wood. It opens less than a minute later to reveal Caroline in the doorway. 

The grin on Caroline's face falls into a frown as she crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the door frame. "Why do I get the feeling this isn't a friendly visit?"

"Because you're a warlock," Louis dead pans. 

"I – we need your help," Harry tells her calmly. 

Caroline rolls her eyes, albeit smiling fondly. "Of course you do, Shadowhunters. Do come in." She steps aside, letting them walk past her into the room before closing the door behind all three of them. "How can I be of service?"

"Our little leprechaun Shadowhunter-in-training is missing," Louis replies. 

Caroline frowns and turns to look at Harry knowingly. "Demons?"

Harry nods once. "We need you to tell us everything you know about Abaddon."

Caroline blinks and then steps around a large, circular table to sit in one chair and gestures for both Shadowhunters to sit across from her in two others.

X

"Abaddon is an ancient, ancient demon," Caroline begins. "His name is Hebrew, which translates into the term 'to destroy'. He also goes by the name Apollyon, The King of Demons. He's not a demon to be messed with by any means, Shadowhunters."

"Right, well, he kind of has our one/third angel, one/third demon, one/third mundane friend Niall, so not messing with this demon is out of the question," Louis snaps.

"He's a Mundane-Faerie?" Caroline asks, eyebrows raised curiously as she turns to Harry. "You failed to mention that bit, Harry."

"It wasn't important."

"Well it is now. That must be why Abaddon needs him."

Harry gulps, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat. "Needs him? Needs him for what?"

"To destroy the world, what else?"

"Why does he need Niall?" Louis asks, rolling his eyes impatiently. 

Caroline rolls her eyes, her gaze landing on Louis. "You said yourself, Tomlinson, he's a tri-blood. He has all the powers of a faerie – and now a Shadowhunter, it seems – with the advantage of being a mundane. Even if he doesn't know it, he's incredibly powerful and Abaddon will know exactly how to use it."

Louis glares and he just so happens to looking in the warlock's direction. "Use it how, Caroline?"

"Abaddon's one mission in life is to destroy the world, to rip it apart seam by perfectly crafted seam. Using demons and certain warlocks are effective, of course, but it seems to me that when Niall stumbled upon your fight, Harry, with the demon in the pub, it sparked something in the demon underworld and that is why Abaddon wants him. He knows what Niall is, which means he knows what Niall is capable of.

"Demons are about destruction and raising hell, literally, on earth and what better way to do that than to use a mundane, of sorts, itself? They get off on manipulating mundanes before destroying them so imagine how much easier it would be for Niall to help destroy the world from the inside out? It would be the ultimate manipulation, wouldn't it? Not to mention the fact that he's been training to be a Shadowhunter – that would be the icing on the proverbial cake for Abaddon and his demons. Abaddon's passion in life is to play this game of manipulation and destruction to the mortal world and Niall is just another pawn. A pawn that was once missing and has now been found.  
“You see, Shadowhunters, while Niall’s name and identity has not been known until now, the demons have always known of his existence. Twenty-three years ago a child was born to a mundane who had meddled with a demon and an angel, of sorts, and the only way for her to keep the child safe from the demons was to hide him from not only the demons but the Shadowhunters as well. She was killed shortly after the child was born and I reckon the demons, Abaddon included, have been waiting for Niall to make his appearance and, alas, he has.”  
Harry leans forward in his chair, dropping his head into his hands. “And now because of me he’s in danger,” he mutters shakily. He was the one who brought Niall back to the Institute. He was the one who made it clear to the demons that Niall was something to be protected.  
Caroline frowns, leaning forward to pull Harry’s hands away from his face. “He was in danger the second he stepped foot in London, Harry, you had nothing to do with it. In fact, I reckon it’s because of you he’s managed to stay safe for so long.”

Louis leans forward, folding his arms across the table. "What about this Justin boy? Where do you think he comes into play?"

Caroline leans back again, her gaze lingering wholly on Harry. "I think Abaddon knew he'd never get anywhere near Niall on his own – not whilst he was constantly surrounded by Shadowhunters – and that Justin was just the middle man. He probably threatened Justin’s family in order to get him to cooperate, probably fed him empty promises… In fact, now that he has Niall, I'm not sure Abaddon will have any further use for Justin which means he’s probably dead by now anyway. Niall is the one he wanted and Niall is the one he has. All he has to do now is convince Niall to play along."

Harry shakes his head. "Niall wouldn't do that – he wouldn't help-"

"Niall might not have a choice, Harry," she replies, sounding like she genuinely feels bad to have to say it. "Not if Abaddon has his way."

"Then we'll just have to make sure he won't have his way, won't we?" Harry mutters sharply. 

"How do we find him?" Louis asks. "Niall's still part mundane, which means they can't pull him through the gates of hell so where the hell would Abaddon be holding Niall?"

Caroline leans forward, twirls her hands around and conjures up a smoky photograph of a mansion – a mansion that has Harry flying out of his chair and towards the door before Louis can even process it because he knows exactly where that mansion is located. 

X

Harry barges into the Library with Louis on his heels. He doesn't even register that Simon, Liam, and Zayn are gathered around a map spread across Simon's desk before the words "The Bishop's Avenue" are out of his mouth. And only when the three other men look at him does he notice the large map of London before them and Simon's index finger pointing to that very street. "Oh," he murmurs. "Well, yeah."

"Caroline told you where they'd be, then?" Simon guesses.

"How did you lot figure it out?" Louis retorts, folding his arms over his chest as he peers around Liam's shoulder at the map.

"Research," Simon says simply. "What else did she say?"

"That Abaddon wants Niall to help him destroy the world with his 'tri-blood'," Louis responds. 

"Tri-blood," Liam hums. "Clever."

"Niall wouldn't do that," Zayn says, shaking his head. "He's a Shadowhunter now, he wouldn't-"

"He would if he didn't have a choice," Louis says, saying what Harry can't bring himself to say. "Abaddon has centuries of experience in manipulation and brainwashing – which is how he got Justin to lure Niall in in the first place. And if he manages to brainwash Niall into doing his dirty work then...we could be in a lot of trouble. Especially if Abaddon knows how to bring out Niall's powers."

"Wait – powers? What powers?" Liam asks, looking between Louis, Harry and Simon.

Simon sighs. "I didn't want to say anything unless I absolutely had to and now, it seems, I have to. As everyone knows, Niall has demon, angel and mundane blood in his veins – which means, in a way, he's like a Shadowhunter, a faerie and a warlock all rolled into a mundane. And seeing how both faeries and warlocks have powers, chances are Niall will have them too – they just haven't shown themselves which is probably because he doesn't know he has them."

"So Abaddon knows Niall has these powers – or at least has the potential to use them – and his plan is to use Niall and his powers to destroy the world," Louis adds. 

"Sounds ingenious," Simon agrees. 

"Okay, now that everyone knows everything that everyone else knows, can we go now?" Harry asks impatiently. "Niall's alone in a fucking demon lair and he's probably freaking out – and if we don't get there in time-"

"Yeah, yeah, we're going," Louis says as everyone promptly begins to gather their things. 

"Does anyone happen to know how many demons are living in this lair?" Zayn asks. "Should we call for backup?"

"I've contacted the Clave and both leaders of the closest vampire clan and werewolf pack," Simon says.

"Guess we'll see how much backup we have when we get there, yeah?" Louis replies. "Guess we'll also see how trustworthy this truce is with the Downworlders."

X

Niall thanks the orange-skinned demon with bright, highlighter-green eyes that escorts him up to a room in the "west wing" of the mansion. The room is massive, completely furnished including curtains on the inside of all three windows and tarps – to keep up appearances – on the outside. 

He's lazy and drowsy on his feet and he barely makes it to the king-size bed before falling face down on top of it. He sighs and lets out a groan as he stretches out the muscles in his back and then pulls himself up to lay his head down on the pillows at the head of the bed. 

It feels like he's been awake for years, feels like he hasn't slept at all over the last 24-odd hours; feels like he could sleep for the next seven days in a row. He's exhausted, drained both mentally and emotionally – and now physically. And so it's no surprise that sleep finds him the second he closes his eyes.

X

The Shadowhunters and allies gather in the bush around the rotting iron gates surrounding the demon lair. The lair is literally nothing more than one of the rotting mansions on The Bishop Avenue; there's no point in using a glamour on it, seeing as how the property – along with countless others on this very street – has been untouched for decades. Demons prefer to blend in anyway and what better way to blend in, really? It's clever. 

The plan is for the Simon, Liam, Zayn, Louis and Harry to slip onto the property and sneak into the building whilst their allied werewolves and vampires are to stand watch and listen for the signal in case their assistance is needed inside the lair. Simon, Liam and Zayn are to look for Abaddon and Harry and Louis will look for Niall – and then bring him to safety before going back in to destroy the lair. 

Harry is itching to get inside, to get to Niall. He's quite literally fidgeting and bouncing on the spot and Louis has to remind to keep his head on straight – to remember to be a Shadowhunter and not a boy in love.

And, yeah, that's going to be incredibly hard. 

X

Harry's hand lingers on the third door knob in the west wing of the mansion, glances at Louis, who's standing across the doorway, serif blade in hand and ready to pounce. Louis nods at him, signaling he's ready for whatever's inside and Harry takes a deep breath before he twists the knob and pushes the door open. Louis leaps into the room first and Harry follows suit to shadow him, colliding hard with Louis' back. "What the-"

"Harry," Louis whispers, staring straight ahead. 

Harry follows his friend's gaze across the large, weathered bedroom towards the bed, where a slim body with a blond head of hair is lying soundly on the bed. His heart jumps into his throat and he forgets how to breathe around it as he surges forward. All thought and protocol flies out the proverbial window – he forgets to be a Shadowhunter – as he drops to his knees next to bed so that he's face-to-face with Niall. His sweet, pale-faced, beautiful Niall.

He reaches a shaking hand out to touch Niall's cheek before he pushes his fingers through the Irish boy's slightly greasy hair. "Niall," he murmurs softly. "Ni, babe, wake up. Please wake up."

Niall's eyes start to flutter open. "H-Haz?"

"Yeah, Niall, it's me. It's Harry – wake up for me," Harry whispers. "We're gonna get you out of here."

"No," Niall whimpers, burying his face into the pillow. "No, I wanna stay. Let's stay."

"No, babe, we have to go. We can't stay here."

Niall begins to really wake up, then, and his eyes widen when Harry comes into focus before he moves away violently, shouting for Harry not to touch him. He pushes himself up the bed, clawing desperately at the sheets before his back hits the wooden headboard.

"Shh – Niall, no, shh," Harry says, crawling closer to Niall to try to calm him down. "It's okay-"

"No – don't touch me," Niall shouts. "Get away from me!"

Harry blinks, confused. "Wha-Niall, what-"

"Harry!" Louis yells frantically from the doorway.

Harry turns around to look at him – and then everything goes black. 

X

Harry wakes up tied to a chair. He's groggy and his vision is blurry and the voices he hears are like whispers in the back of his head. When he finally comes to, his vision focuses on the smug demon, Abaddon, in all his red scales and black eyes, standing before him – and beside him: Niall. Niall, who looks calm as ever and not at all freaked out or scared. Niall.

"Well, well. You've finally decided to join us, have you?" Abaddon asks rhetorically, smirking. "Say hello to your fellow Shadowhunters, Mr. Styles."

Harry looks behind him to where his friends – his family – are stood in a semi-circle around him, each flanked by a demon. Their expressions are stony and unreadable, exactly the way they should be in a situation like this. His gaze lingers longer on Louis, who stares back at him and he can practically hear Louis' voice in head telling him not to give up. He turns back to face Abaddon and Niall – searches Niall's face for a sign, any kind of sign, but his expression is also stony and unreadable. His gaze rakes over the length of Niall's body, searching for any harm or injury, but Niall seems completely unharmed. In fact, he even looks very well put together – like he's been taken care of and not tortured the way Harry had feared. 

"You know, you're both my favourite and least favourite Shadowhunter," Abaddon addresses him. "You're really quite talented."

"I know," Harry replies confidently, determined not to let The Demon King detect the anxiety within him.

"And cocky; your reputation fits you well."

"So I've heard,” Harry drawls. “Tell me, why is it every time I run into a demon they feel the need to recite to me my skills and my reputation as a Shadowhunter before I kill them?"

Abaddon sneers, which Harry takes as the demon not liking Harry's ability to talk back – that, or he's really hit a nerve with the demon. The demon's sneer turns into a smirk, then, as he turns to glance at Niall and then back at Harry. "Oh, where are my manners? I've yet to introduce you to my new friend, Niall."

"We've met," Louis replies from somewhere behind Harry. The demon holding him captive does something which elicits a pained groan from Louis' lips and Harry has to clench his fists to refrain from reacting. 

"That's right, you have! Perhaps I should inform you, then, that a few things have changed in the last day or two."

"What things are those?" Harry asks, his gaze glued to the blond-haired boy standing tall beside the demon. 

"Well, I've made an addition, of sorts, to my team; a step in the right direction for my cause."

Harry raises an eyebrow. "Your cause… That's what you lot are calling it these days – a cause?"

"Of course," the demon drawls.

"And what's this addition you speak of?"

"Why, Niall of course! I needed a new right-hand man since you killed mine in a bathroom a few months ago – remember that? And Niall's resume is perfect for the job."

Harry's heart drops and his stomach turns as his gaze flickers desperately over to Niall, who remains still and unreadable. He swallows around the large lump forming in his throat because what? No. It can't be. Niall would never agree to that. "N-Niall isn't a demon," Harry says pointlessly, cursing the way his voice wavers on Niall's name.

Abaddon shrugs. "He's got demon blood, which is close enough."

Harry finds himself shaking his head, moving his arms in a vain attempt to loosen the restraints on his wrists. He can feel himself losing control of his emotions, can feel the utter desperation and fear bubbling in his chest. "No – no, Niall wouldn't do that,” he says, his voice shaking despite his best efforts to keep it level.

Abaddon smirks darkly. "You don't sound so sure of yourself there, Styles."

"He wouldn't," Harry says more firmly, harshly. "He's not like that, he's a Shadowhunter."

Abaddon grins evilly, clapping Niall on the back. Niall, who's lips twitch into a small smile. "Let's talk about that, shall we? Let's talk about Niall being a Shadowhunter. Rather, let's talk about what else Niall is – what you lot failed to mention to him, isn't that right, Niall?"

Niall nods once, his gaze landing firmly and coldly on Harry.

Harry shakes his head. "It's not like that, Niall," he says to blond boy, look at him desperately. 

"You kept it from me," Niall spits out harshly. "I have powers and you kept it from me, all of you-"

"No, Niall, it's not-"

"The lads had no idea, Niall," Simon says, speaking up for the first time. "I was the only one who knew for certain and I only just told them today. I only kept it from you to protect you."

"Protect me from what?" Niall sneers.

"From yourself. From-"

"Bullshit," Niall spits. 

Harry holds back a small gasp at the harshness in Niall's voice. This isn't Niall. Even during all the times Niall had been angry and harsh with Harry, he'd never sounded like this; never sounded so hateful. Never sounded like a demon.

"You kept it from me to control me," Niall snaps.

"No, Niall," Harry says, trying desperately to connect with the blond boy's gaze – and failing because Niall isn't looking at him at all. "Niall-"

"You see, Niall? You see the difference between Shadowhunters and us?" Abaddon drawls, standing behind Niall with both of his long-clawed hands resting on Niall's shoulders. "They've been keeping things from you from the very beginning, keeping you locked inside that Institute as a way to control your every move – whereas, as I have told you, I would be more than happy to help you perfect your craft, to help you learn. I could teach you how to control your magic and use it properly. You wouldn't have to hide; you wouldn't have to deny your very being the way you've had to at the Shadowhunter's precious Institute."

"Niall," Harry says, lunging forward only to be held back by the restraints holding him in place. "Niall, don't listen to him – he's brainwashing you."

"Brainwashing?" Abaddon cackles. "I'm merely stating facts, dear Shadowhunter. I'm telling him the truth-"

"A twisted version of it," Harry spits.

"There are two sides to every story, Styles. The only side he knows is the side you lot have told him and you haven't even told him the whole truth. How is he meant to trust you now?"

"Perhaps you should let him speak for himself," Harry snaps.

Abaddon nods. "Very well. Niall? Is there anything you'd like to say?"

Niall pauses and then nods, gaze landing directly on Harry, looking hollow. Gone. It’s like Niall doesn’t exist there anymore. "He's got a point, Harry."

Harry shakes his head, glancing back at the others for help only they're being held so firmly by the other demons they can't move. He looks back at Niall desperately. "No, Niall-"

"I am what I am and this whole time it's just been hidden from me," Niall says, a dull, faraway look in his usually bright, lovely eyes. "All any of you focused on was the fact that I had Angel blood and could be a Shadowhunter and the Demon blood in me was just pushed aside – like it didn't matter. Like it isn't a part of me. But it is a part of me and it does matter. It gives me powers – powers I never would've known I had if I hadn't met Abaddon and-"

"That's not true; Simon was going to tell you," Harry says hurriedly, interrupting him. "He was just waiting for the right time."

"And when would that have been, hmm? This whole time he's been hiding it whereas Abaddon wants to help me bring it out – help me control and use it to my advantage. He wants to help me be who I am."

"He wants you to help him destroy the world, Niall. And he wants to use your magic – and all of your strengths in order to do it-"

Niall blinks, shaking his head. "That's-"

"That's why he's calling you his new right-hand man. He wants the demon blood in you to destroy things and he wants the mundane blood in you to help him do that because the mundane blood makes you virtually unrecognizable. He's using you-"

"He's not."

"He is, Niall, you just don't know it because he's brainwashed you into believing he wants to help you. He doesn't want to help you, he wants to use you-"

"What, like you've been using me?" Niall retorts. "I never saw it that way before because it was what I wanted, but Abaddon has made me see that all of you have been using me; letting me be a Shadowhunter, teaching me how to fight – all so I can help you. You've been using my angel blood to make me a Shadowhunter and ignoring my demon blood for your own sake."

Harry shakes his head, his damp, dirty curls shaking. "That's not true, Niall."

"Isn't it though? Abaddon says-"

"Would you listen to yourself?!" Harry shouts desperately. "You're taking the word of a demon you just met, Niall! You don't know anything about him and you're believing what he's telling you over believing the people that have been there for you through all of this! He's a demon, Niall, and none of them are worth the trust you're giving them. They're pure evil and-

Niall frowns. "I’m part demon, Harry. So what does that make me?"

Harry blinks, taken aback. "You – no, you're not listening-"

"Give it up, Styles," Abaddon drawls, looking bored. "The boy's made his decision-"

"No, Niall – babe, listen to me, okay?" Harry presses, ignoring the demon in favour of trying desperately to keep Niall's attention. "Yes, you have demon blood in you but that doesn't make you evil – you have two other kinds of blood to prove otherwise. You're not – you aren't like them, Ni. You don't hurt people. Abaddon hurts people; he hurt your parents to try to get to you and he used Justin and then killed him in order to get to you too. You're not like that. You're not evil, Niall – you aren't. You're part demon, but you're only part demon and that means nothing. It means nothing because you have a choice – you've always had a choice and you've always chosen good. And that, Niall, is what you are. Shadowhunter, warlock, mundane-faerie – those are all just labels that don't even really matter because all that does matter is that you're good. And I know you're confused right now and you don't know who to believe because Abaddon has brainwashed you but you know – you know, Niall, deep down that this is wrong. If you go through with this, if you make this deal with Abaddon it's literally like making a deal with the devil himself and you won't come back from that – you can't. He doesn't want to help you, Ni, he wants you to help him destroy the world. Your world; your normal, beautiful world. And I know you don't want that – that's why you wanted to be a Shadowhunter, remember? To protect people, to save people. This, these thoughts you're having right now, they aren't yours – they're Abaddon's and they were put there to confuse you. He's – he's telling you we don't care about you but look around, Ni. We're here; we came to find you and bring you home because we care about you. We love you – I love you-"

(And in that brief moment, in between Harry telling Niall he loves him and Harry's voice being cut off, Harry sees something shift in Niall's eyes.)

"Alright, I've heard just about enough," Abaddon drawls, cutting Harry off. "That was a very touching speech, Mr. Styles, but I'm afraid I've grown bored of you and your merry band of Shadowhunters." He snaps his fingers and that's when the other demons start to pull the other Shadowhunters out of the room. Another one appears next to Harry, as if out of thin air – and then the chains around Harry's wrists disappear and he's being yanked to his feet roughly.

"Wait," Niall says firmly – and Harry cranes his head around to find the Irish boy's gaze with his own. "I want him to know something before they go."

Abaddon purses his lips. "Very well."

Harry stares at him, watches the way Niall licks his lips and takes a deep breath, watches the way his Adam's apple bobs nervously and how his eyes flicker with something like recognition and trust. And there it is, he realizes with bated breath: there Niall is. Just like that he's no longer a stranger wearing Niall's face; no longer a boy with a demon's thoughts – he's Niall again. And he doesn't have to actually say it for Harry to understand what he's trying to convey through the look in his eyes. 

Harry swallows around the lump in his throat, exchanges a quick glance with Louis before looking back at Niall. "Run," he tells Niall.

A series of events begin to unfold all at once: Simon, Liam, Zayn and Louis all manage to fight their demon off before thrusting their serif blades right into their chests, Harry throws his head back into his demon's face before yanking himself free of the hold on his arms, Niall ducks out of Abaddon's grip on his shoulder – and runs towards Harry and the others and a deep, angry growl erupts out of Abaddon's chest. Niall stumbles down the three steps from the raised platform he'd been standing on next to Abaddon and into Harry's arms; their gazes lock for a fraction of a second once more and they both nod once before he takes the empty spot between Harry and Zayn, his back to the center of the Shadowhunter circle they've formed in the centre of the room. Zayn holds out his fist and Niall bumps it with own as the demons collect themselves and surround all six of them. 

"We need weapons," Niall pants, adrenaline coursing through his veins. 

"Simon," Harry says, glancing at the man out of the corner of his eye.

"Already on it," Simon mutters, lifting a hand to his lips. 

A loud screech of a whistle sounds throughout the whole room – and probably throughout the entire mansion. On cue, every window breaks apart, shards of glass flying as bodies come swinging into the room, taking the demons by surprise. Demons hiss, werewolves growl, vampires sneer and other Shadowhunters leap into action. 

One man tosses a bag of weapons towards the Shadowhunters before shifting into werewolf form and assuming defensive-offensive position. The weapons – daggers, swords, clubs and serif blades – get passed around. Simon, Zayn, Liam and Louis all jump into action but when Niall goes to follow, Harry grabs his arm and pulls him back. 

"Niall," he murmurs, curling his free hand around the back of Niall's neck. Niall looks at him and he looks back – just looks.

Niall blinks. "Harry, we have to fight-"

"Tell me you're good, Ni," Harry murmurs. "Tell me we're good."

"I'm good. We're good – but we have to fight, Harry," Niall breathes. 

"I know, I know, just - head up, yeah? Eyes open. Body-"

"Body large, shoulders small – I got it, Haz."

Harry nods and then raises an eyebrow and cocks his head to the side with a grin. "Let's fight then."

X

Niall fights on autopilot, using moves he's learned in the training room and things he's picked up from the lads – specifically from Harry. Everything goes by in kind of a blur; demons and werewolves and vampires and Shadowhunters; blood and fur and scales and shiny weapons. He kills three demons and injured two others, which Harry then kills for him. 

The demons are outnumbered – and they know it, which is why a lot of them disappear into thin air. Some of the werewolves get injured but don't die, along with a few of the vampires but they all heal so quickly the injury itself doesn't even matter. Zayn gets thrown against a wall and is held tightly by his neck by a demon until his face starts to turn purple and Liam stabs the demon in the back with his serif blade. The demon burst into ashes, which flutter to the ground along with Zayn who lands in a heap, gasping for air at Liam's feet. Louis nearly gets decapitated at one point by a demon with a razor sharp tail but he manages to duck and then bury his serif blade into the demon's abdomen all at the same time.

Harry sticks close to Niall – or maybe it's Niall whom sticks close to Harry, which enables them to fight as a team and even though they've only had a couple mediocre sessions like that in training room it actually works quite well. They make a good team, really; not only do they have each other's back but they have this thing where neither one of them needs to speak to know what the other's trying to convey.

Abaddon, meanwhile, switches between watching his demons do his dirty work for him and defending himself effortlessly against stray werewolves and vampires.

And then – and Niall isn't even sure how – Abaddon gets a hold of Harry, holding a long knife to his throat, the cold, sharp edge of the blade pressing hard against Harry's flesh. And everyone stops fighting because Abaddon demands their attention with a booming roar. He taunts them, taunts Harry, who tries to get free, and sneers at Niall for betraying him. 

And Niall is only vaguely aware of what the demon is saying, really only hears random words, because his head is throbbing. He feels dizzy and light-headed and his chest is tight. His whole body feels fuzzy and weird. It feel like his blood is on fire and his head swirls almost as if he's going to pass out. There's a weird kind of pressure building within him like it's trying to force its way out of his body.

He shuts his eyes and holds his head in his hands in a vain attempt to make the pressure go away, hears Harry call out his name in desperate panic but he can't respond. He can't make his mouth move or his eyes open; can't make his body respond to his thoughts of fighting back.  
And then all at once he screams and his cries echo around the room as the pressure from within him is released through his skin, like it's being pushed out of his bones and through his pores. It's like the pressure is tangible, the force of it knocks everyone off balance as bodies go flying and demons flee. Both Harry and Abaddon fly backward and skid across the floor within the debris of broken glass and splintered wood. Harry's Shadowhunter reflexes kick in almost immediately as he pushes himself to his feet and launches himself at Abaddon's body, where he plunges his serif blade into the demon's chest once and for all.

Seconds later, as Abaddon's body turns into ashes and disappears, Niall's legs can no longer hold his weight and he drops to his knees on the cold, hard floor. He can hear voices calling his name, calling out other's names, barking orders – but there's only one voice he wants to hear.  
One voice he needs to hear.

"Niall," that voice murmurs.

Hands are on his face and in his hair, tilting his head up and tapping gently at his cheeks.

"Niall, hey," the voice whispers. "You're good. You're okay, babe."

The pressure continues to dissipate in his body and the dizziness in his head is almost gone, just enough for him to open his eyes anyway. And his gaze lands on Harry's face, on his worried, green eyes and his full, pink lips and his dirty, unruly brown curls now matted with dirt and blood, sticking to his forehead. "Harry," he whimpers – and then he's throwing himself towards the brunette boy, crawling into his lap and curling his arms around his neck and burying his face into the dirty, smelly, damp fabric of Harry's shirt. He craves comfort and safety and Harry is the only source of that in this room – in this mansion, he realizes, and as he literally tries to burrow himself further into Harry's warmth he comes to the conclusion that he might never get enough. 

"I've got you, Ni," Harry whispers, stroking Niall's back and rocking them both back and forth. "I've got you."

X

The drive back to the Institute is quiet; nobody speaks because nobody knows what to say. Niall sits pressed up against the door of the car, his head tilted against the tinted window as he stares out at the moving lands. Harry sits across from him and wants nothing more than to crawl across the small space between them and bring the Irish boy into his arms but he knows better; knows that Niall needs solitude right now, so he says in his own seat with his gaze glued to the blond boy's face. 

Simon tries to get Niall into the kitchen with the rest of them to get something to eat – because The Angel knows when the last time he ate was – but Niall isn't hungry and insists on going to bed. Harry isn't sure whether to follow him or to join the others but then Niall grasps at his hand and pulls him towards the staircase so he follows silently. 

Upon entering Niall's room, the blond boy freezes. Harry takes it upon himself to close the curtains and get out fresh, clean clothes for Niall to sleep in before pulling Niall carefully into the washroom. He washes Niall's hair in the sink and then wets a face cloth to wipe it over Niall's face and then hands to get the dirt and grime and sweat off his skin. Niall watches him the entire time and their gazes lock for a moment while Harry drags the cloth over his cheek; his eyes are bright and wide, pupils still dilated, rimmed red from crying silently in the car – which nearly killed Harry to watch. He looks shocked and haunted and confused all at the same time. 

They go back into the bedroom and Harry stands back as Niall starts to shed his clothing in order to get changed. He thinks maybe he should leave but he doesn't, which turns out to be a good thing because Niall winces when he tries to pull his shirt off over his head – his muscles are stiff and sore from fighting – so Harry steps forward to help him take it off. He then helps Niall with his pants and has to hold back a moan when Niall peels off his boxers and by the time Niall is wearing the clean boxers and muscle shirt Harry had found for him Harry has come to the conclusion that this is the most intimate thing he's ever done. Ever.

Niall crawls into the bed, curling up in the covers on his right side as he stares straight ahead at the wall opposite him. And only when Harry turns to leave, does Niall finally speak for the first time since the incident back at the mansion. "Stay," Niall murmurs, curling his fingers around the pillow under his head as he holds it close. 

"A-are you sure?" Harry asks. He isn't sure what the protocol is here; isn't sure if Niall is still somewhat bitter over the Caroline thing and that he should tread lightly or if the whole demon thing has made him forget about Caroline. 

"Please?" Niall's voice quivers – and Harry hates it so he nods and shucks off his pants and shirt as quick as he can before he crawls into the bed behind Niall.

Niall keeps his back to him, stays curled on the bed with his knees tucked up and Harry just lies down next to him, mirroring Niall's position as he faces the back of the blond boy's head. He wants to reach out to him, to wrap himself around Niall's body like a shield of protection from everything that's ever hurt him and everything that ever will. But he remains still, deciding that Niall should be the one to call the shots.

"Harry?" Niall calls out to him softly, pulling Harry from his own thoughts. 

"Hmm?"

"I don't think the things I said to you," Niall whispers. "I don't think those things at all; they were all his – it's-"

"I know, Ni," Harry murmurs.

"Had me believing it though, for a minute. 'Least that's what it felt like," Niall mutters. "I was gonna...I would've done whatever it said – whatever it wanted me to do-"

"I wouldn't have let that happen," Harry tells him softly. "I wouldn't have let you become something you're not."

"A monster."

Harry's silence speaks for him the validation. 

"Except that I am – or I could be. It's inside me, Harry."

"No – hey, Niall, look at me," Harry whispers, reaching his hand out to brush his fingers against Niall's shoulder. "C'mon, turn around for me."

Niall does as he's told, his gaze colliding with Harry's.

"Just because it's inside you doesn't mean you have to let it become you. You're not evil, Ni. You could never be evil."

Niall's brows come together in confusion and uncertainty. "How do you know that?"

"There's this saying in the mundane world – you've probably heard it – There're two wolves battling in every human heart: one that's angry and afraid and one that's kind and understanding. And the one that wins is the one you feed."

"Yeah, I've heard it."

Harry smiles softly, stroking a hand through Niall’s hair. "That's the difference between you and demons, Ni. Demons are pure demon; there's only one wolf inside them and it's angry and destructive and, I suppose you could say, they don't really have a choice. They don't have the capacity or the will – which is why they need to stopped. But you do. You have the choice because you're also human and you're also an angel and so you have the will. It's exactly like I said in the mansion, yeah?"

Niall nods, casting his gaze away from Harry's face and down where they're hands are tucked into their chests just millimeters apart. "Promise me you won't let me choose otherwise."

"You won't."

"Promise me."

Harry smiles softly. "I promise."

Niall looks back up. "It was magic, wasn't it? What I did in the mansion, that – that force..."

Harry nods. 

"Before it happened it felt like my body was going to explode, like there was all this pressure inside of me and I didn't know how to let it out and then all of a sudden it just exploded," Niall explains breathlessly.

"That's normal for someone who doesn't know how to control it. And now that it's happened once already..."

"It's bound to happen again."

"You need someone to teach you how to control it; you'll never figure it out on your own."

"Who am I gonna get to agree to that? I don't know anyone who..." Niall trails off at the thoughtful look on Harry's face. "What?"

"I know someone who would do anything to teach you – if for no other reason than to know how special you are and what you're capable of."

"Caroline," Niall guesses.

Harry nods.

The blond closes his eyes and looks away. "I dunno, Harry-"

"You don't have to, we know plenty of warlocks who have helped us in the past that we can ask. It's just...I trust Caroline. You can never be too sure about a warlock's intentions but I trust hers. And I know she's a sensitive subject for us right now but I would go with you, if you wanted..."

"I'll think about it."

Niall scoots closer to Harry, then, burying himself into Harry's chest as the dark haired boy lies back with his shoulders against the mattress. He basks in the warmth if Harry's skin and the listens to the erratic beat of Harry's heart. It's silent for a few moments in which he also listens to the rhythm of Harry's breath until they're both breathing in sync. And then he speaks again, softly. "It isn't over, is it?"

Harry shakes his head; Niall can feel it on the top of his head. "Now that Abaddon's gone, his demons are going to want revenge."

"Will it ever end?"

"Probably not. There's always gonna be demons and because of that there will always be Shadowhunters. It's just the way this world is."

Niall nods. "There's no going back."

"Do – I mean, do you want to? Would you?"

"No. This is who I am now. Hell, it's who I've always been, in a way, isn't it?"

Silence falls between them but this time it's comfortable and warm and not at all awkward the few silences before. 

"We're okay, right?" Harry asks softly as the butterflies flutter around in his stomach. "You and I, we're...we're good, yeah?"

Niall lifts his head to look up at him. "I dunno," he whispers truthfully, his gaze meeting Harry's. Harry looks hopeful and desperate and Niall feels the same way in his chest. "But we can be."

Harry smiles, then, and pulls Niall impossibly closer because that's good enough.

X

Four months later

Niall can feel it from where he is in the hallway outside the room. He can feel the dark energy inside the room, festering and calling out to him. It's like the demon's energy is trying to reach out to the demon blood in Niall's body, like it's trying to bring him over to the dark side, so to speak. The demon blood inside Niall feels hot, like it's trying to connect with the demon but he's learned how to ignore it, how to control it. Not to mention the fact that the angel blood in him tends to protect him from, well, everything the demon blood in him tries to do. 

His grip tightens around his serif blade and he can feel the angelic energy inside it connect with the angel inside him, can feel the demon blood in his hand retract like it's trying to get away from the weapon. He places his other hand on the doorknob and takes a deep breath. Harry, Louis, Liam and Zayn are elsewhere in the old, "haunted" house, so even if he does have problems all he has to do is call out to one – or all – of them. He takes one more deep breath, pushes the door open and practically dives into the room. 

And the room is empty save for the various articles of furniture covered in sheets of dusty plastic. Except it's not really empty because he can feel the demon's energy even stronger now. He smirks, walking into the middle of the room as he tucks his blade up his sleeve to put his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I know you're in here," Niall calls out to the demon. His voice echoes around the room. "And I know you know I know you're in here. You can't sneak up on me."

There's a shuffling and creaking in the rafters above Niall's head and then a blast of hair hits him in the face as something – the demon – jumps down and lands in front of him. The demon has scaly, light blue skin and bright yellow eyes. It smirks. "There's no getting away from you, is there?"

"Not really, mate."

The demon tilts it's head to the side thoughtfully. "You're smaller than I thought you'd be, Tri-Blood."

"Tri-Blood," Niall smirks. "That's a new one. What I lack in height and build I make up for in everything else."

"I gathered that."

The demon moves to flee, then, but Niall lets his gaze slip past it to look at the door for the briefest of seconds. The door slams shut, just before the demon reaches it and the demon turns back around slowly to face Niall.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you anyway; my friends are out there looking for you," Niall tells it.

"I'll open a portal," the demon sneers.

"I'll close it."

"I'll disappear-"

"We both know that isn't going to happen."

The demon growls. 

Niall shrugs. "Perhaps you should've been more careful with the mundanes you tried to kill earlier."

"You're nothing but a traitor," the demon sneers. 

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

The demon launches itself at Niall and even though Niall could easily push him away without even lifting a finger, Niall lets the demon's body collide with his before grabbing it around the shoulder and throwing them both at the ground. They begin to roll around on the floor, kicking and punching and scratching. The demon grunts, refusing to give up the fight. 

Niall gets the upper hand when the demon forgets to close itself off and the Shadowhunter pins it to the ground beneath him. He lets his serif blade slip out of his sleeve and into his hand before thrusting it quickly into the demons chest.

The demon chokes and sputters as the angelic energy of the blade begins to burn the demons chest around the wound. "You lot won't get away with this – the demon world will get its revenge."

Niall finds himself smirking. "We'll have to see about that. Tell my friend Abaddon I send my regards."

The demon bursts into ashes, then, and Niall scrambles to his feet. The adrenaline has finally caught up to him, making him breathless as he pants for air to get back into his lungs. Still, it's exhilarating. 

The door flies open, slamming against the wall as Harry comes barreling into the room. He looks around wildly before his gaze settles on Niall. "You killed it?"

Niall grins and nods. 

Harry frowns, closing the door behind him as he walks into the room. "And I missed it? Well that's depressing."

"'s not like you've never seen me take down a demon before."

"Yeah but you were never alone – and you look so hot doing it."

Niall grins. "I do, don't I?"

Harry nods, wiping both hands over Niall's face to get rid of some of the dirt that's collected there before wiping his hands on his own jeans and curling his arms around Niall's waist. 

After the incident in the demon later, in which Niall had produced his first bout of magic and Harry had killed the demon trying to take over Niall's whole being, the two had become inseparable.

Niall had needed a couple days to wind down and get some energy back seeing as most of his energy had been taken up by the magic and, due to his sudden fear of being left alone – without Harry, really – he had begged Harry to stay with him. Harry hadn't needed to hear much begging, would've agreed to stay after the first plea had Niall given him a chance to, but knowing that Niall needed him had also felt really, really good. So, selfishly, Harry had happily holed himself up in Niall's room, shared Niall's clothes, slept in Niall's bed and only opened the door to let in food and to let the others know they were still alive. 

On the fourth morning, after The Incident – which is what Niall now calls it, Niall had woken up ready to venture outside of his room. He'd showered and dressed before Harry had even woken up and, just as Harry was in the midst of waking up, Niall had announced that he was going down for breakfast and what Harry should hurry up and join them. The rest of the day was much of the same; Niall going about and doing things on his own – or, rather, without Harry. He'd gone to the training room with Liam and joined Zayn in the art room and then went off for a walk in the garden with Perrie. Needless to say, by the end of the evening, Harry felt useless, like Niall didn't need him anymore, so he'd retired to his own room instead of Niall's – and his bed felt all wrong. He was surprised, not even an hour later, when the door creaked open and Niall had poked his head in, asking Harry why he didn't want stay with him. 

"I just – I thought you wouldn't want me to," Harry had murmured.

"Why wouldn't I want you to?"

Harry had shrugged. "You haven't really spoken to me since this morning."

Niall had invited himself in, then, closing the door behind him before making his way towards Harry and sitting on the edge of the bed next to Harry's long feet. He'd looked guilty and apologetic. "I just...I wanted to see the others. And I wanted time away…"

"Away from me," Harry had muttered. 

"Well, yes, but only because I knew we'd have to talk about us sooner rather than later and I just – I needed time to gather my thoughts."

Harry's breath had caught in his throat, then. "And?"

"And I think we still need to talk and you need to tell me about Caroline – especially if I'm supposed to let her teach me how to control this, this magic," Niall had said, stumbling over the word magic because as real as it was, it was still incredibly foreign. "Lou tried to explain it to me but I need to hear it from you."

And then Harry had begun to speak, let the words come out of his mouth without even trying to think about them. He told Niall everything – how he met Caroline, why he started seeing her, why he stopped seeing her, why he felt the need to see her every time he was running away from Niall. He promised Niall that nothing had ever happened with Caroline the second time around; that their visits were strictly him talking and drinking and her listening and telling him he doesn't have to be scared of falling in love with Niall.

Somewhere between talking about Caroline – and everything else that's happened to Niall thus far – Harry had kissed him. Boldly. And then he apologized quickly only to have Niall swallow his apologies by kissing him back. (And Niall hasn't really stopped kissing him since.)

A few days after that – after walking into the dining hall the following morning hand-in-hand to cat calls and "whoop-whoops" – Harry had taken Niall back to the warlock pub to see Caroline.  
Niall had been tense and queasy both because he was nervous and because the memories of the previous time he'd been there had hit him like a freight train. But then Harry had taken his hand and interlocked their fingers, squeezing softly, reassuringly. Caroline had welcomed him in with open arms and barely even acknowledged Harry's presence as she began to question Niall, her attention solely on him and the powers he can have. To Niall's dismay – because he hadn’t planned on liking her – she had been perfectly polite and kind and supportive. 

Now, here he is four months later: an incredibly gifted Shadowhunter with the powers of a warlock and the heart of an angle. And yet Niall still considers himself as mundane as he's always been.

Harry leans in to kiss Niall, his forehead pressed again Niall's messy, blond fringe. His lips barely brush against the Irish boy's when the door bursts open once more and Louis, Zayn and Liam filter through the doorway. 

Louis groans loudly, dramatically, and lifts his hands to his face as though to shield his eyes. "No snogging in the field!" he shouts.

"Oh, piss off," Harry snaps back playfully as he disentangles himself from his boyfriend. 

"You got it then?" Liam asks Niall, referring to the demon they'd all been chasing through the woodwork.

Niall nods.

"I'm beginning to regret letting him be a Shadowhunter," Louis says, despite ruffling the blond boy's hair. "He's killing all our bloody demons because he can feel them stronger than we can."  
Everyone laughs, including Niall who just rolls his eyes affectionately. He watches Liam push Louis' shoulder, watches Louis jump onto Liam's back and then watches Zayn try to pry Louis off Liam's shoulder – all the while heading back the way they came. Harry tugs at Niall's hand to pull him after the other three Shadowhunters but Niall remains still, pulling Harry back towards him instead. Harry looks at him questioningly and Niall looks back, his gaze dark and lustful and pleading. "Kiss me," he whispers.

Harry smirks. "But Lou said-"

"I don't care what Lou said," Niall chuckles. "Just-"

Harry swallows Niall's command, kissing the blond boy hard on the lips as one of his hand curls around the back of Niall's neck to bring him closer.

"What did I say about snogging in the field?!" Louis shouts from somewhere outside the room. "I get that killing demons turns you both on, but seriously!"

Both of them burst out laughing as they part and Niall lets Harry pull him towards the exit to go back home. Home. 

This is exactly where he belongs.

End.


End file.
